


'Til I Saw Your Face

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Drink Spiking, Drug Addiction, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, No Healing Cock, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-08 22:03:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15252987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: In order to smother his pain, Draco loses himself in a world of night clubs and drugs. Then he runs into Harry Potter again, who runs a charity for war orphans and strives to do good in the world, despite hiding his own dark secrets. As a result, Draco realises things can get better.





	'Til I Saw Your Face

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the HD Wireless Fest, based on the song 'I Wanna Get Better' by The Bleachers. 
> 
> Thanks so much to my lovely friend M for her beta-ing and help throughout writing this <3 Any remaining mistakes are my own. 
> 
> I promise there is a happy ending to this :)

 

 

***

  
   
The man above him groaned breathlessly, tightening his fingers in Draco's hair. To stop from rolling his eyes, Draco allowed them to flutter shut for a moment, lashes thick with glittery mascara tickling his skin.   
   
The man didn't notice Draco's lack of enthusiasm, too busy bucking his hips to get more of his cock in Draco's mouth. Distraction was good--key, in fact.   
   
Middle-aged men in sleek suits with slicked back hair were all the same, trawling gay bars behind their wives' back.They'd give their missus a kiss on the cheek as they left for a 'business trip' before searching for pretty young men who'd go down on their knees for them.   
   
Cliches, the lot of them, but they were also the kind of pricks who liked to flash their cash to impress. Draco moved his hands to the man's arse, giving it a good squeeze before his fingers slid deftly to the back pockets of the man's slacks.  
   
He continued to suck and lick as he opened his wallet. He took a good handful of notes. As he stuffed the money into his own skin-tight jeans, he ensured maximum distraction by taking the man's length entirely in his mouth, causing him to throw his head back in pleasure.  
   
"Thanks, sweetheart," the man said after he'd come over Draco's fingers--Draco wasn't a commoner; he was hardly going to swallow the come of some rich, cheating arsehole in a dirty bathroom. "Can I pay you back somehow?"   
   
His gaze flickered down to Draco's crotch.   
   
"Don't you worry about it," Draco said with an innocent smile. "I've had my fun."

The smile slid off his face as the man looked away to button up his trousers, and Draco took the opportunity to cast a discreet memory modifying charm on the man; he'd forget he even had money in his wallet in the first place. He got to his feet, then purposely bashed into the man's shoulder as he strode out of the bathroom without a second glance back. Draco caught a glimpse of his reflection; pink hair glinting under the artificial yellow light of the bathroom, his mouth red and swollen. 

His held his arms above his head, swaying his hips to the pounding music as he made his way across the dance floor. Dazzling lights of pink, blue, and purple gleamed on the dancers' skin, the crowd shining like a living, swaying rainbow.

Pansy, Theo, and Blaise were laughing between themselves when Draco returned, and all eyes flickered to him eagerly. 

"Patience, darlings," Draco purred as he slid into the faux-leather booth, which crinkled like plastic. He threw an arm around Pansy, resting his head on her shoulder. "Pansy, you agree with me it's Theo's turn next? Tomorrow night he can eat out some skank's pussy and take her money?"

"I'll do that with pleasure," Theo said, "provided you've come through tonight."

Draco smirked. "Don't I always?"

He threw the handful of notes down onto the table. He didn't know how much was there, but he knew how to read people, and his conquest had such a small dick he'd definitely be overcompensating by flashing his cash.

And considering the stack of twenties and fifties on the table, Draco knew they'd be having a good night tonight. 

A skinny bloke in his thirties who was never seen without a beanie hat and sunglasses strolled past. Blaise beckoned him over. "Hey, Doc!"

"How's it going, mate?" Doc greeted, pulling Blaise into a tight, one-armed hug. 

"Not bad, mate," Blaise replied. "We've not seen Adam round here for a while."

Doc blew away a strand of hair that had come loose from his beanie. "Saw him 'bout ten minutes ago."

Draco slid £60 across the table towards Doc, the money hidden stealthily under his hand. "If you see Adam again, tell him we're going without him in an hour."

Doc smirked. "Will do." He reached into his coat, drawing out a small plastic bag which he hid in his fist discreetly. He gave Blaise a long, slow handshake. "See you around, lads; lass."

After Doc had left Theo cast a _Notice-Me-Not_ charm around their booth, and Blaise emptied the bag of ecstasy pills onto the table. Draco picked up a bright yellow tablet with a smiley face etched into it. 

He raised it above his head in mockery of a toast. "To a good night." Draco grinned as he swallowed the pill down.  
   
****

 

***

Birds were chirping outside his window. 

Draco groaned, hand aimlessly trawling the space next to him under he found a pilow to throw at the glass. The collision didn't scare the birds off, their irritating tweeting like nails on a chalkboard to Draco's sensitive ears.

He dragged himself out of bed, then crossed the room and drew his curtains shut with an angry scowl. He felt moderately better without the sunlight streaming in, but even darkness couldn't stop Draco from feeling like shit. 

He cast a _Tempus_ , saw it was two in the afternoon already, and figured he should at least show his face before his mother had a fit about his ' _poor life choices_ ', like her marriage to Lucius hadn't been one massive poor life choice. 

He picked up last night's jeans from the floor and pulled them on, uncaring of the alcohol stains and glitter sticking to the denim. He didn't bother with a shirt; if his mother was offended by the sight, she could piss off back to the seaside cottage she kept harping on about moving into.

Draco stumbled out into the hallway and down the stairs, and eventually made his way into the dining room. He grabbed some sliced bread and spelled it to toast slowly while he made himself a cup of black coffee, with three heaps of sugar. He swallowed almost half the bitter liquid at once, wincing at the burn as it went down his throat.

Someone coughed behind him. 

"Good morning, Mother," Draco said. 

"It's afternoon, darling," Narcissa said, her tone light to an untrained ear, but Draco easily picked up on the anger in her voice. "We have a guest."

Draco turned around and blinked in surprise at the sight of Harry Potter sitting next to his mother. They each had a cup of tea in dainty china cups, and delicate slices of Victoria Sponge cake which had been left untouched by both. 

Potter seemed to be averting his gaze away from Draco's chest, causing Draco to smirk. He took a bite of his plain toast as he surveyed Potter; still skinny and messy-haired as ever, but the metal hoops, one piercing his nose and the other piercing his lip made him distinctly more interesting. Despite the warm weather Potter was clad entirely in black, his sleeves hanging over his hands, and all the black contrasted with his hair made his vibrant green eyes stand out even more. 

Draco would be lying if he said he didn't find Potter cute, but Draco highly doubted Potter would be interested in a one-night-stand, which was all Draco was prepared to offer anyone. Although it might be a good idea for him to seduce Potter into the idea of a one-night-stand; he'd wanted to fuck Potter since they were sixteen, when hate, his blossoming sexuality, and Potter's cute face merged together to form a kind of confusing anger fuelled attraction. 

"Perhaps you'd like to fetch a shirt?" Narcissa suggested, her eyes glittering icily. 

Draco grinned. "I'm sure Potter's no stranger to seeing shirtless men. So tell me, Mother, what brings this unlikely pairing together?"

Narcissa pursed her lips. "Mr Potter and I are planning a charity ball together, to raise money for the war orphans. The Manor was such a Dark place during the war that it's about time we bring some light back to our home."

"I imagine that'll be quite hard to manage," Draco said dryly. "You can hug as many orphans as you want, Mother, but that won't change the fact the Dark Lord walked these very halls and drenched them in the blood of his victims."

Potter paled, and Draco felt a stab of guilt. 

"Forgive my son, Mr Potter," Narcissa said before Draco could speak any further. "He was out... _drinking_...last night, and his hangovers leave him rather unbearable."

"That's alright. I've always found Draco quite unbearable." Potter flashed Draco a teasing smile, but it looked too strained to carry much meaning. 

"Perhaps we should continue our meeting out in the conservatory and leave Draco to his breakfast?" Narcissa suggested. "It has a beautiful view of the gardens, and on a clear day like today you can see for miles beyond our borders." 

She shot Draco a nasty glance as she stood, then guided Potter out of the room before he even had time to turn down her offer. 

Potter paused as he passed Draco, giving him a slow look up and down. He smiled coyly. 

"I like your hair," Potter said. "Pink suits you."

Draco couldn't sense any mockery in Potter's tone. "And I like your piercings. If you ever want anything else pushed inside of you, give me a shout."

Potter's sly smirk grew. "I'll be sure to remember that. I'll be seeing you around, I'm sure you."  

Draco smiled as he took another bite of his toast. Potter had certainly improved what would have otherwise been a very shitty day.  
   
****

 

***

Draco surveyed the clothes in his wardrobe carefully, running a hand through his hair, which was still damp from his shower. He finally selected a pair of leather trousers that stuck to his legs like a second skin, and a sheer, silver shirt which showed off his slim form.

He was sitting at his vanity, applying his kohl and mascara, when his mother entered, uncaring of what state she might find Draco in. She had seen him in enough states now for it not to matter.

"All that dark eye make up washes out the rest of your face," she said dryly. "Care to borrow a pink lipstick?"

Draco sneered at her through the mirror. "I'm gay, Mother, not a cross-dresser."

"Going out again, I see." Narcissa pursed her lips. "I'd have thought you'd be tired of disgracing yourself and our family name by now."

"Please, Mother! You and Father ruined both the family name and your sole heir when you submitted to that monster of a Dark Lord."

"Yes, however _I_ am trying to make amends." 

"Amends?" Draco said with a scoff. "Is that what you call it? Because what _I'd_ call this prancing around with Harry Potter planning charity ball for orphans and puppies, is you trying to get the Wizarding World to turn a blind eye to the fact that _you_ turned a blind eye to your husband's misdeeds."

Narcissa's reflection smiled coldly at him. "I am simply doing what I have to in order to restore some respect to the Malfoy name."

"The name that Father is mostly responsible for ruining," Draco pointed out. "And what's he doing about it? That's right, he's _exiled_ himself. What a dreadful punishment, to be sunning it up in the Caribbean and leaving family behind to fix the mess he made."

"Don't talk about your father that way!"

"I'll talk about him how I like!" Draco snapped back. "If he wants my respect, perhaps he should be here. He can't have a good son if he isn't prepared to be a good father."

"Draco," Narcissa said softly. "You and I both know Lucius is a coward. His solution in life was to throw money at everything, but that simply isn't enough anymore. The two of us are stronger than he is, and I know we can bring our family back to the point it once was."

"You can, you mean. I have no interest in doing charity work."

Narcissa's lips curled. "Actually, darling, I've put your name forward to help Mr Potter plan the charity ball for the war orphans."

"What?!" Draco cried, spinning around in his chair to glower at his mother. "Why would you do that? I have absolutely no interest-"

"I offered your help," Narcissa interrupted, "because quite frankly, I am tired of seeing your face. Getting high does no favours for your complexion, darling; perhaps natural sunlight and wholesome company will do you some good. And no, there is no way you'll be getting out of this so get used to the idea."

Narcissa left without another word, entirely unbothered by Draco's dark glare. Who did Narcissa think she was, trying to control his life like that?

Still scowling, Draco turned back to his vanity, reaching into the drawer and setting out a line of Speed on the white wood. At any rate, he wasn't going to let his mother ruin a good night, Draco thought as he snorted the Speed.   
   
****

 

***

"I swear my mother is trying to ruin my life," Draco said. His fingers scratched at the table in agitation. "Trying to make me do _her_ charity for her."

"Your mother has always been a bitch," Pansy said. 

Draco scowled. "Takes one to know one. Besides, only _I_  can call her a bitch; she's _my_ mother."

"Maybe she wants Potter to be her toyboy. Narcissa strikes me as a cougar." Blaise paused and grinned. "Potter'll be a lucky boy if she lets her sink her claws into him."

Draco's scowl grew. "My mother is not going to bed Potter. Salazar, I should hope his standards are better than that. And have you seen him recently? With all the black I think the only thing he's going to be shagging is a Dementor."

His scowl turned into a grin as his friends laughed. 

"You're just jealous at the idea of Potter being ravished by your mother rather than you," Pansy said. She licked her lips, a smudge of the red paint staining her pale skin. "Potter swings both ways, just so you know. I hear he shacked up with Oliver Wood after he broke up with the Weasley girl. In fact, why _don't_ you fuck Potter?" 

Theo nodded. "Give Potter an extra bit of charity."

Draco's gaze flickered over to a young man at the bar who he'd noticed earlier, tall and slender, and with a gorgeous, plump arse. With his black, shaggy hair, he could almost pass as Potter from behind. 

"I don't want Potter," Draco lied. "What I _do_ want is to fuck that twink at the bar."

Blaise snickered. "You mean the one who looks a bit like Potter?"

"Fuck you, Blaise," Draco said without venom. "At least I'm going to pull tonight."

"Don't you worry about me, Draco," Blaise grinned. "I have my eyes on a couple of pretty little ladies."

"And a couple of ugly ones for when he strikes out with the lookers," Theo said, prompting Blaise to shove him in the shoulder hard. 

Draco left them to it, leaving his seat and making his way over to the bar. The man he'd been eyeing turned to look at him as Draco slid into the space next to him. He was attractive enough, with warm brown eyes and a flirty smile, but nowhere near as cute as Potter; turned out Draco was quite fond of the sad puppy look.

"Hey," the man said, fluttering his lashes. "I'm-"

"Nameless," Draco interrupted. "I don't care what your name is, just like you don't care about mine. You and I both want one thing, and we both know it."

"Oh?" Nameless looked Draco up and down appreciatively. "That's very presumptious of you."

Draco leaned in close, resting his fingers on the bare skin of Nameless's arm, warm under the lights of the bar. "Am I wrong?" he asked, smirking suggestively. "I sure hope not."

"You're bold. I like that."

Draco's smirk grew. "There's other things about me I'm sure you'll like too."

Nameless ran a hand over Draco's thigh. "Maybe you could show me, then? Show me what makes you so bold and confident."

"It would be my pleasure," Draco said, grasping Nameless's hand to guide him through the bar. He flashed a wicked smile at his friends as he passed by their table. 

The disabled toilet was empty, so Draco took the opportunity to pull Nameless inside and lock the door behind him. 

"I want you bent over the sink," Draco commanded, cupping his growing erection with his hand. Nameless looked down and licked his lips hungrily. "Now."

Nameless flushed at the show of dominance and obeyed, tugging his jeans down to reveal his gorgeous arse. At this angle, it could very well be Potter bent over, ready and willing for Draco's cock. 

With the speed coursing through his veins, and the dim blue lights of the club, it was almost too easy to pretend.  
   
****

 

***

Draco awoke with a start when blinding light burned through his closed eyes all at once. He hissed, covering the top half of his face with his hand and using the other to pull his duvet over his head. 

"Must you be continuously obnoxious, Mother? No wonder Father left."

"I may be fucked up, but not enough to play Mummy for you," a decidedly male voice spoke. "Good job I'm not your mother; you're pretty damn harsh when you're grouchy."

Draco threw the duvet away from his body so he could glare at Potter, who was perched on the edge of the cushioned seat which sat in the curve of the bay window. Potter looked uncomfortable, still clad neck to toe in black despite the bright sunshine outside, while his gaze flickered constantly between Draco and the bedroom door. 

"I'm not grouchy," Draco said, noting how much more he preferred the emerald green of Potter's eyes, over the brown of the twink from the night before. "I just dislike rude awakenings."

Potter had the decency to look sheepish. "Your mum told me to do it; she said you wouldn't wake up otherwise."

"Like I said, she's obnoxious and no wonder my father left her."

Potter rolled his eyes. "Your father left her because he's made a living out of being a coward."

"Couldn't agree with you more," Draco said, giving Potter a devious grin. "It looks like delightful weather out there; wouldn't you be rather more comfortable with less clothes on?"

"Why, Malfoy! You haven't even bought me dinner yet and you're already trying to get my clothes off."

Draco smirked again, sitting up against his headboard so that more of his body was on display. "If we go out for dinner, I insist we come back to mine for _dessert_." 

Draco wasn't quite sure why he was flirting with Potter, considering they didn't like each other all that much. He did find Potter attractive, however, and if he proved to be too annoying then Draco could always just gag him during sex; Potter _had_ described himself as fucked up, so he'd probably be into at least a little bit of kink. 

"I'm trying to stay away from sugar, for now," Potter said, standing from the window seat. He hovered awkwardly for a moment, before taking a seat on the very edge of Draco's bed. "Look, I know you're not keen about this-"

"Oh? Quite the contrary, actually. I'm quite keen on seeing you without clothes on."

"You're a terrible flirt, you know that?"

Draco gave Potter a wicked smile. "Mm, I don't think so. But if we can safely agree we're _both_ keen on losing our clothes, please tell me what I'm not so keen on."

"I would have done, if you hadn't interrupted," Potter said, rolling his eyes. Draco was pleased to note he hadn't disagreed with Draco's assessment that there might be some mutual attraction between them. "But what I meant was I know you don't care about helping with charity work."

"It's not that I don't care, but simply that I have more important things I could be doing," Draco said, idly picking at a nail. "However my mother has made it very clear that I have no choice in the matter this time round." 

Potter grinned. "Yeah, I don't think I'd like to pick a fight with her. But look, I've done enough fundraising to be able to handle the financial and organisation side of things, but what I'm _not_ good at is planning parties, especially not ones aimed at impressing stuffy old Purebloods. No offense." 

"I may be a Pureblood, but I'm not stuffy _or_ old," Draco said, affronted. 

Potter's grin grew. "You have a silk dressing robe hanging on the back of your door. The door of your bedroom in your _manor_."  

"I think you'll find I'm simply eccentric and wealthy. That being said, my parents and grandparents are stuffy and old, and dragged me to enough Pureblood society events over the years for me to know _exactly_ what they like, and what encourages them to hand over large amounts of money."

Potter beamed, looking so excited that Draco felt himself soften a little bit at the sight. He was so used to acting hard, and forcing his otherwise numb mind to feel good using drugs, that he'd almost forgotten what it was like to feel genuine happiness. And Potter had a beautiful smile, with little dimples in his cheeks, and eyes bright with joy. Looking at Potter smiling gave him a rush, like the first burst of adrenaline when a pill kicked in.

Draco cleared his throat, embarrassed at his own thoughts. Fantasies of tying Potter to his bed and fucking him until he was screaming for more...well, Potter could do with that what he wanted--especially if he turned up to Draco's bedroom with a length of rope. But the thought of Potter somehow finding out Draco was thinking about his gorgeous smile was mortifying. 

"I do think discussing charity events are classed as business talks, however, and bedrooms are simply not right for business talks," Draco said smoothly. "However the restaurant you're going to take me to for dinner would be perfect."

Potter's lip curled. "Does his Lordship have any specific requests? French cuisine? Italian? The KFC at Paddington Station?"

"Surprise me."  
   
****

 

***

Draco was surprised to see that Potter had selected a Muggle restaurant for the evening. Being the defeater of Voldemort was bound to have perks in the Wizarding World such as getting seats at the most popular eateries without a reservation, and Draco had rather been looking forward to strolling his ex-Death Eater arse past a line of scowling faces. 

Instead Potter had brought Draco to somewhere called _Frankie and Benny's_ , which had a ghastly green and red decor, and claimed to serve fantastic New York and Italian style fare. Draco had never been to New York, but he had been to Italy, and he doubted any Muggle chain could recreate the originals. 

"You did tell me to surprise you," Potter said with a grin, while Draco flinched as a little girl ran past him and nearly hit him in the face with her pink balloon. "They do decent food here, though, and I don't really like going out in the Wizarding World; there's too many eyes on me."

Draco's gaze roved over Potter's form hungrily. Even hidden under a baggy black jumper, Draco could still admire the slender curve of Potter's shoulders, and he could just bite that sharp collar bone that the fabric didn't quite cover. 

"I sure hope you don't mind my eyes on you."

Potter shot him a devious grin. "I don't mind anything of yours on me."

Draco's heart skipped a beat. Part of him yearned to lean over the table, fist his hand through Potter's weather-inappropriate jumper and pull him forwards so he could kiss Potter so hard that they'd both be breathless from the force of it.  

He could barely concentrate on the taste of his Risotto--which was probably a good thing, considering the establishment, finding himself too entranced with the delicate way that Potter tore his pizza into small pieces before eating it, and the peek of pink tongue flashing against his fingers. 

"So," Draco said, desperate to fill the silence before it overwhelmed him. "What made you go into charity work? I always pictured you joining the Aurors, or are handcuffs just not your thing?"

Potter smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "No, nothing against handcuffs--though I prefer to be wearing them-" he cleared his throat awkwardly- "but it didn't feel like the right thing to do. I'd like to join the Aurors eventually, but it was important for me to set up the orphanage first so those kids had somewhere to go, and I split my time between working there, fundraising, and campaigning. There's still too much to do because of the war; still too many people that need help. It's my fault these kids are orphans, so I can't just turn my back of them."

"Ah, forgive me, My Lord," Draco deadpanned. "You look different with hair and a nose; much more dashing, if I may say so myself."

"What-?"

"You just said it's your fault those children are orphans, and considering the blame falls with one man, and one man alone, I can only assume you're admitting to being the Dark Lord."

Potter's eyes flashed, his right hand scratching at the fabric over his arm. "Shut up! It is my fault, and we both know it. If I had acted faster, if I'd made more of an effort, fewer innocent people would have died. I'm not as guilty as Voldemort himself, but I still carry the blame."

"If you'd acted faster?" Draco repeated slowly. "You and your friends were the only people _acting_. Most people cowered and did as they were told, or joined the Death Eaters to try and protect their own life. If it hadn't been for you then there would be far more dead, and you're an idiot for thinking otherwise."

"You're just saying that," Potter said dismissively, and Draco had a feeling they were words that Potter used often. "I'm depressed, not stupid. You can't lie to me out of pity and expect me to believe you."

Potter's blunt admittance of suffering from depression took Draco aback slightly. His own mother had suggested many times to Draco that he was suffering the same ailment, but he preferred to handle the situation by filling the numbness in his brain with drugs.  
   
"Honestly, Potter, I'm the last person to be nice to you out of pity; I am always brutally honest with you. For example, I think all the black clothing you wear washes you out and makes you look pale, and the piercings make you look like a rebellious teenager rather than a twenty-one year-old charity worker. You also clearly enjoy wallowing in your own misery too much, and you could probably do with getting laid--which I'm happy to help with, by the way." He paused to wink. "But despite all that, you're not to blame for anything that fuckwit of a Dark Lord did."   

Potter gave him a watery smile, and his hand slid across the table. Draco took it without thinking, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles against Potter's soft skin. Their gaze met, and Draco recognised at once the pain in Potter's eyes; it was the same look Draco saw whenever he looked at his own reflection. 

"You're a prick," Potter said. "But thank you for being a prick."

"I do my best to be an arsehole at all times. I'm glad you appreciate it."

Potter shook his head in amusement. "I was thinking, maybe you could come to the orphanage with me sometime and read for the children? The older ones will be coming to the ball for a bit, and it might nice if you got to know them."

The words 'not for all the Galleons in Gringotts' almost fell off Draco's lips without him even thinking about it. But then he looked at Potter's face again, full of sadness and pain, but hope and determination as well. And Draco wanted nothing more than to see Potter smile again. 

"I'd love to...Harry."  
   
****

 

***

Draco pushed open his window to welcome the cool night breeze into his muggy bedroom. There was only so much that Cooling Charms could do, and he hated that sticky, sweaty feeling that came with a hot summer's night. 

He clambered back into bed, hot body sliding down smooth, silk sheets. His pyjama shirt hung unbuttoned, and he kicked his duvet down to just below his knees. Sighing, he threw his arms out on either side, stretched across his vast, empty bed. It was too big for one person, really. Not that Draco minded sleeping alone--he'd hate to have to put up with snoring or someone else stealing the covers in the night--but sometimes the Manor and everything inside it felt too large, too consuming. The Dark Lord had made it feel the opposite, like it was so cramped and tight that Draco might suffocate, but now it seemed like if he closed his eyes he might wake to find himself lost at sea.

His mind drifted to thoughts of Harry again, as he'd found himself doing often. Harry had a slender physique, and was just an inch shorter than Draco, and so would fit perfectly in his arms. If he closed his eyes, Draco could almost imagine that Harry was there with him, his skin soft and warm against Draco's. 

He wondered if Harry slept alone, or if he shared his room with traumatised war veterans and injured puppies--no, Harry probably put them in a sperate room. Draco's lip curled at his own joke, and he wished Harry was there with him simply so he could tease him with that line. He'd have to remember it. 

Draco also couldn't help but be curious as to whether or not Harry slept well, with all the good he was doing in the world. He had a feeling, though, Harry could save an entire nation made up of children and animals, and still feel as though he hadn't done enough. Guilt seemed to eat away at Harry the same way self-loathing ate away at Draco. 

And where Draco allowed himself to be carried away from his inner demons, dressing in bright shades of pink and blue, dancing under pastel lights, and swallowing whatever pills helped him feel like he was floating, Harry instead welcomed the darkness and hid himself in its shadows. If Draco was Ecstasy, then Harry was Heroin, a facade of warmth hiding a violent inner battle. 

Draco never fucked with Heroin, having seen enough junkies waste away with addiction in the dingy, back alley bars they frequented on occasion, and Harry--Harry seemed just as dangerously addictive. And Draco had already had a taste, Harry's haunted eyes and his damn gorgeous smile etched into his mind, and Draco needed-- _craved_ \--more.

In fact, that was wrong too. Draco didn't crave Harry, but he _wanted_ him--he wanted him a _lot_. It felt strange, but good, to feel purpose in his life after so long without it; it was about time he got better.  
   
****

 

***

"Draco," said his mother through the door. She sounded angry, which confused him slightly; he hadn't done anything to piss her off recently, at least not purposeful. 

"What?" he called back. "This better be important, I'm busy."

In actual fact, Draco was simply lounged on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He hadn't been out the night before, the first time he'd missed one in months. As a result, he'd spent the day utterly bored and feeling a bit fuzzy in the head. A potion had sorted out the nausea and migraine, but it hadn't fixed the boredom. He'd tried reading, organising his cravat drawer by colour and type--he wasn't a stuffy, old Pureblood, no matter what Harry said; cravats were simply stylish--and he'd even had a wank over Harry like he was a horny sixteen-year-old again. 

"Your... _friends_ are here," Narcissa said, and Draco understood the reason for her distaste at once. His mother despised Draco's friends for supposedly corrupting him, as if he hadn't done a good enough job corrupting himself. 

Draco hesitated for a moment. "Send them up."

He had the visit with the orphans in the morning, so he was trying to stay off the drugs before he went to try and get himself at least a little bit presentable. Playing as a pretend-real-adult wasn't a game he played often, but if Draco's suspicions were correct, Harry was also playing pretend along with him. 

Pansy was the first to come inside, clad in an obscenely short skirt, which Draco could imagine deepened his mother's scowl. Blaise and Theo were close behind her. 

"So you're not dead?" Blaise asked dryly. "You don't even look sick to me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Aren't I dead? My mistake. I thought my pale pallor and dull eyes meant I was a ghost."

"No, just bad genes," Theo said, grinning wickedly. Draco smiled back, showing off his perfect rows of teeth, which was something Theo certainly didn't have. 

"But seriously, Draco, where were you last night?" Pansy asked, touching his forehead with the back of her hand. "I can't believe you were sick."

"I wasn't. I just had plans." Draco crossed his arms, scowling, and Pansy stepped away from his hastily. 

"You missed a great night, I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear," Blaise said. "Pansy made a fortune off this old pervert who was so desperate to see her tits that he paid her beforehand, but got thrown out by a bouncer before he got to see them."

"Your doing, I assume?" Draco asked Theo, who was a deft hand at the Imperius Curse. Draco suspected Theo got up to Darker magic when he was at home, but Draco didn't really want to know; if he didn't know, he didn't have to feel bad about it. 

"Naturally," Blaise answered before Theo could speak. "And after that, Theo hit on a man thinking it was a bird!"

Draco couldn't help but laugh loudly, breaking his icy facade, and Blaise and Pansy joined him. 

"Yes, but you should have seen him from behind!" Theo protested. "What kind of bloke has hips like that?"

Pansy stepped over to Theo to wrap an arm round his shoulder. "I still think you should have gone home with him. I'm straight, too, but I've had some great nights going home with ladies."

"Pretty sure you're not straight, Pansy," Blaise muttered, sharing an amused look with Draco. "But anyway, Draco, you _are_  coming out tonight, aren't you?"

Draco's stomach knotted itself. He couldn't afford to be on the comedown when he met with the orphans in the morning, but he was just so bored...

"I've scored us some pure MDMA," Theo supplied, as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Come on, Draco, we've all been itching for some decent Molly."

That was true. From what Draco heard, Molly was better than Ecstasy, and he loved Ecstasy a _lot_.  
   
Draco grinned. "Let's go then."   
   
****

 

***

"Wake up, Draco! Wake up!"

Draco awoke with a start as a cold blast of water rained down over his face. 

"What the fuck-?" he began to cry, but he fell silent as the end of a wand jabbed into his forehead. He scowled, turning his gaze towards the furious face of his mother. "What do you want? Fuck off and leave me alone."

"What did you take last night?" Narcissa asked angrily, casting a spell to force Draco's body to sit up once more as he attempted to lay down on his side away from her. "You're never quite _this_ irritable. And for your sake, darling, I hope this _is_ the results of drugs, because if I find out this is simply _you_  daring to talk to your mother like that-"

"I took Molly, which is just a purer form of Ecstasy," Draco interrupted. "Happy? I'm only a shit son because of those nasty drugs you hate so much. Now leave me alone, alright? I don't want to talk to anyone right now."

"Well I want to talk to you." The anger in Narcissa's voice was still there, but strained with sorrow which Draco hated the sound of. She could be as angry at Draco as she wanted, but he never wanted her sadness. "I thought you had an appointment at the orphanage today, so wasn't I surprised when Mr Potter called me through the Floo wondering where you were."

Draco sat up straighter. "What did you tell him? What did you tell him was wrong with me?"

His heart was pounding in his chest, clenching violently at the thought of Harry finding out that Draco was nothing more than a dirty junkie. 

Narcissa's expression softened. "I told him you were feeling under the weather and couldn't make it, but you sent your apologies. You let those children down today, Draco."

"I know," Draco murmured, flopping back down onto his bed and burying his face in the pillow. "I'm the worst; isn't that what you keep telling me?"

"I've said no such thing, darling," Narcissa said, rubbing Draco's back soothingly. "I just wish you could see what these drugs are doing to you. I know you feel happy when you're on them but-"

"Exactly!" Draco snarled, sitting up so he could send Narcissa a fiery glare. "You think I like feeling like I do now? Full of hate, and rage, and _fear_. Drugs give me an _escape_ from this. You're the one who needs to understand. Now get out! Please!"

That time, Narcissa didn't argue.   
   
****

 

***

Draco spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon in bed, feeling sorry for himself. As great as getting high was, the inevitable comedown always made him feel terrible. He usually just moped around before pulling himself out of it, but this time he had the extra feeling of guilt ebbing away at him. 

Draco didn't _do_ guilt. He did want he wanted, and screw the consequences for other people. He'd had enough of others trying to dictate his life, and he'd been much better off after he stopped giving a damn about other people. 

He supposed the fact that he'd let down a group of children--and not just any children, but war-traumatised and orphaned children--gave more of a reason for him to feel guilty than if they'd been interfering relatives and the mindless drones who worked at the Ministry. 

And there wasn't just the children to consider, but the lost puppy who looked after them. He really didn't want to imagine Harry's face after Narcissa had told him that Draco was unable to make it. The thought that Harry might be so angry he didn't want to work with Draco anymore dug uncomfortably at his chest. It was all too many emotions that Draco didn't want to deal with. 

He pulled himself out of bed, intent on taking some shrooms or LSD, something that he could use to escape the weight of his thoughts, when he heard a knock at the door. 

"I've told you, Mother, I don't want your company," he snapped at the door. 

"It's Harry," came the voice from the other side. "Is it alright if I come in?"

"One second," Draco said, hurrying to the vanity to straighten up his hair--he noted the pink was fading and needed colouring again soon--and checked his clothes were clean before he opened the door. "Hi."

"Hi," Harry said as he gave Draco a small smile. He lifted up a hand, revealing a plastic tub, and when Draco breathed in he could smell the delicious scent of freshly baked bread. "I heard you weren't feeling well, so I raided Mrs Weasley's kitchen to try and help you feel better."

The uncomfortable tension in his stomach increased ten-fold at Harry's sincere smile, and he could only watch wordlessly as Harry brushed past to set a loaf of bread and a steaming bowl of soup on his vanity desk. 

"Chicken soup," Harry told him. "Good for colds, and the soul."

Draco crinkled his nose at that last one. "What?"

"I dunno. Just something the Muggles say. This _is_  really good soup, though, and I hope you don't mind me sharing with you."

Draco only noticed then that Harry had extended the vanity stool to fit both of them comfortably, Harry already sat at it and patting the cushion beside him. He strode over to it, sitting down and brushing his leg purposely against Harry's. Guilt was something he couldn't handle, but flirting was.

He found himself staring hopelessly as Harry stuck a spoon in his mouth, not taking his gaze off Draco's as he sucked the metal slowly and deliberately. As he pulled the spoon out, he flashed Draco a grin. 

"I'm good with my mouth."

Draco smirked. "Not for talking, that's for sure. Although I _would_ like to see what your mouth is good for. In return, I could show you how good I am with my hands."

"Yes," Harry said, giving Draco a slow look up and down. "You do have long _fingers_. I like long things, especially when it's _thick_ , too."

It took all of Draco's efforts not to pick up Harry and throw him onto the bed where he could shag him senseless. Draco always thought the drugs would eventually kill him, but it seemed like Harry was going to kill him far quicker. 

To distract himself he promptly took a spoonful of soup, only to wince as the hot liquid burnt his tongue.

"Fuck, that's hot!" he said, fanning his mouth with his hand. Harry looked amused, carefree in-fact, and the guilt which he'd pushed down came right back to the surface, threatening to break through his skin. 

"I don't have a cold," he blurted out. "I was just, uh, hungover." He figured just one little white lie wouldn't hurt; better than admitting to being on the comedown. 

Harry's face immediately dropped. "Oh," he said, dropping his gaze to his hands before forcing it back to Draco. "You're not the first person to say they're sick when they're hungover, I guess. It's fine, don't worry." 

Draco could tell it wasn't fine. 

"I feel awful about it. Really. And you know me; would I freely admit to being guilty? There must be a way I can make it up to you...and the children."

Harry considered him carefully. "There's a trip coming up soon to a Muggle zoo. You could volunteer to help; we always appreciate extra hands on trips out."

"Of course," Draco said. "I'd love to."

Harry gave him a sceptical look before his expression softened, and he smiled once more. "Now finish your soup. Good cure for hangovers, too, so I hear."  
   
****

 

***

The next day, Draco found himself knocking on his mother's sitting room door. He didn't usually go out of his way to talk to her, which he supposed made him a lousy son, but they all knew that; why else would his father have abandoned him to hide on some island in the sun? 

If she was surprised at seeing him, Narcissa hid it well. 

"Hello, darling," she said. "Is everything alright?"

"I wanted to apologise for my behaviour towards you yesterday," Draco said, the words sounding foreign on his tongue. He never apologised, even when he knew something was his fault, and how near he was apologising to two people in as many days; Harry was really getting into his head.

Narcissa was unable to hide her surprise that time, her perfectly painted red lips opening in a small 'o', as she studied him carefully. 

"It's no matter," she said stiffly. "Merlin knows your behaviour is far from the worst which has been in this house."

Draco shrugged ; he'd said his bit and he wasn't going to force her to accept his apology. "If I can ask you a favour, though, Mother? I'd appreciate it if you don't allow Pansy, Blaise, or Theo access to the manor tonight. I know they'll be in touch, but I don't want to go out with them."

Narcissa's eyes glittered in which Draco could only assume was approval. 

"And what will have your attention this evening?" she asked. 

"Tell them I'm out with our solicitor discussing matters pertaining to Father. I think I'm going to Floo Harry and see if I can go over to his...to talk business, of course."

Narcissa smiled. "Of course. Mr Potter is rather handsome, don't you think?"

If Draco was a commoner, he would have spluttered. "Excuse me?" he said instead.

"He's your type, isn't he? Tall--but not taller than you--slim, a brunet, cute..."

She gave him a knowing look, no doubt having seen the way that Draco had been looking at Harry. Honestly, his mother was as a shrewd as a fox, and as stealthily dangerous as one. 

"Yes," he admitted. "He is cute. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

When he called Harry on the Floo and asked if he could come over, he was readily invited. As Draco stepped through the fireplace Harry was waiting for him, his black jumper crumpled and sitting haphazardly across his shoulders as though he'd thrown it on in urgency. 

"Hi," Harry said, brushing a lock of messy hair behind his ear. "Is everything alright?"

"Am I really that unsociable? My mother asked the same thing when I visited her room! But yes, everything is fine. I just thought it might be nice to get to know you on a more personal level...given we're doing this charity work together. I can go, if you'd prefer."

He turned back to the fireplace, not wanting to look Harry's rejection of him head on. Honestly, he kind of hated being around Harry; he brought up feelings in Draco which he had long buried and forced him to confront them.

A tentative hand touched his arm. "No, stay," Harry insisted, pressing firmer on Draco's arm when he didn't pull away from the touch. "Do you want to come to the living room? I'll get you something to drink. I don't have any alcohol in, but there's tea, or coffee, or-"

"Surprise me," Draco said, looking around Harry's home as he guided Draco to the living room. "So do you have orphans living here with you, or do you just run an art gallery made up of their drawings."

Nearly every section of wall was covered in drawings and paintings done by children, and in the living room the mantlepieces were full of framed photos of Harry along-side the kids. A little blue-haired boy was featured more than any others, with some photos just of him. There was one right in the centre of Harry and the boy, and photo-Harry was gazing down at the child with utter devotion in his eyes. Draco couldn't imagine anyone ever looking at _him_ like that, and his heart ached with the thought of it, and for a moment he wondered about making excuses and catching his friends at a club. 

"I guess you could call it my own person art gallery," Harry said, voice growing louder as he went into the kitchen, and the sound of it kept Draco firmly in his seat. "The kids always give me their pictures, and I don't have the heart to throw any of them away. Oh, that little boy with blue hair is my godson, Teddy."

Harry had come back into the room with two glasses in his hands, and had caught where Draco's eyes were focused. 

"Teddy?" Draco repeated slowly. The name sounded familiar to him, but he couldn't place where he'd heard it before. 

"Your mother is Teddy's great-aunt," Harry said, sitting right beside Draco, pressed close to his side despite the sofa being large enough to accommodate three people easily. "She might have mentioned him in passing."

"That must be it. It's odd, you know. I'm so used to seeing you in black and with those piercings that I half-expected you to live in an old gothic castle with chains hanging everywhere; not in this child-painted rainbow palace."

Harry smirked. "I keep my chains safely in the bedroom, I'll have you know. Very difficult to escape from too; trust me, I've tried."

Draco didn't know whether Harry was joking or not, but he felt his cock stirring at the thought of Harry in bondage. He took a sip of his drink to distract himself, and immediately spat it back into the glass in horror as his mouth burned.

"What the-?" he exclaimed, glaring at Harry who was almost doubled over laughing. 

"You asked me to surprise you," Harry said once his laugher had subsided enough for him to speak. "So I put hot sauce in your soda."

"Ugh." Draco wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, stealing Harry's drink and downing half of it to try and soothe the burn in his mouth. "If you're not careful I'll be putting you in those chains you mentioned."

"Don't tease me like that unless you mean it, Draco," Harry said, giving him a sly smile. "Be warned, I do like to switch things up on occasion." 

"Oh?" Draco said, raising an eyebrow. "Care to show me what you mean?" He crossed his legs as an image of Harry riding Draco while he was tied to the bed flickered through his mind. 

"Not at the moment, unfortunately." Harry jerked his head towards the fireplace. "I'm on call until ten; if there's an emergency I've got to be off."

"Another time, then," Draco said suggestively. "So what else do you do around here for fun when you're not in chains or hanging up children's drawings?"

Harry pointed towards the large black box opposite the sofa, and then proceeded to explain to Draco what a television was and how they worked, before moving onto the video player and what television series were. 

"My favourite is Buffy the Vampire Slayer at the moment," Harry said, pressing play on the video player. "Muggles have their own, different ideas of magic, but it's a lot of fun."

Buffy turned out to be a spunky, blonde, young woman who killed vampires to protect her community. Draco struggled to understand what was happening, but Harry explained who everyone was and what was going on as best as he could. 

"Oh, here comes Spike," Harry said as a blond vampire in a leather trenchcoat came onto the screen. "He's my favourite; he's just so gorgeous."

"Have a thing for blonds, do we?" Draco teased. 

"Blonds...blonds who've dyed their hair pink," Harry said, as he gave Draco a small grin. "And I can't help but love a bad boy."

"Trust me, Harry, I am very much a bad boy," Draco said. "Not in the blood-sucking vampire way, but I'm sure that's better."

By the time ten o'clock came round, Draco was wondering whether he should reinvite Harry back up to his room at the Manor, but when he looked away from the television it was to see Harry's eyes drifting off in tiredness. Draco carefully and slowly shifted his arm so it was behind Harry, who took the opportunity to slump against Draco's shoulder. 

"I'm just closing my eyes for a minute, okay?" Harry mumbled into the fabric of Draco's shirt. 

Draco froze for a moment, not sure whether he should wake Harry or allow him to sleep. Draco had fucked plenty of men, but he never cuddled them--especially not without sex first. But here he was, allowing Harry to fall asleep against his shoulder and _enjoying_ the feeling. It was strange, actually considering the feelings of another person over his own. It wasn't natural, but still, Draco didn't want to lose the warmth of Harry's body pressed closely against his. 

He brought his arm away from the back of the sofa to wrap around Harry and pull him closer. He half-expected Harry to snap awake and shove Draco off him, but instead he simply wriggled closer against Draco. 

Maybe it would be nice to do this every evening, cuddling up with a lover after an evening of chatting and playful teasing, rather than using drugs to float away from his problem. Only, Draco knew it was safe up in the clouds, away from the ground where all his fears and hate lingered. And to have Harry--or anyone--as a lover only meant there was one more person for Draco to be afraid of losing. 

But Merlin, did he want it anyway. 

 

 

***

When Draco awoke the next morning, it was with a crick in his neck. He blinked blearily for a moment, not recognising his surroundings until he remembered he'd spent the night at Harry's. He hadn't intended on sleeping over, but it appeared that he'd been tireder than he'd realised and had ended up falling asleep on Harry's sofa--that explained the crick in his neck. 

Harry was still curled up beside him, head resting on Draco's shoulder. One of his hands had found its way onto Draco's chest, and Draco made no effort to move it. 

He closed his eyes and threw his head back, allowing himself a selfish moment to enjoy the feel of Harry pressed against him, and the soft weight of Harry's hand against his chest. He was so used to waking up with the jolt of crashing back to Earth after a night of getting high, that a morning of gentle touches and warm, fuzzy feelings felt unnatural to Draco. It felt nice, though, too, but he knew he wouldn't be welcome to more mornings like these as long as he stayed on the drugs--and quite frankly, Draco was afraid of what his mind would become if he gave up the one thing that took away his self-hatred and disgust.

Finally admitting to himself that he needed to get up before Harry awoke, Draco carefully slithered out of Harry's hold and got to his feet. He turned towards the fireplace, preparing to make a hasty exit, until he made the mistake of looking back at Harry. 

Harry had slumped forwards onto the sofa after Draco moved, his head turned towards Draco. Despite being asleep, Harry's face looked heavy with sadness. The hand which had previously been on Draco's chest was reached out, the fingers clenching around air as if searching for what it had just had. It seemed like when he awake, Harry could hide his pain almost as well as Draco. 

Before he even knew what he was doing, Draco stepped away from the fireplace and made his way into the kitchen. There was a large white box, as well as several cupboards all covered in children's drawings like the rest Harry's house. In the centre of the white box was a scribbled crayon picture which, Draco guessed from the blue and brown, and black and green colourings, was supposed to be Harry and Teddy. 

He worked his way round the kitchen, figuring out that the white box kept food cold in place of Cooling Charms. Draco had never cooked for himself before, but he didn't think it could be that hard. Eggs certainly seemed simple enough; they just needed breaking and heating. 

He found some eggs and proceeded to do just that, pleased that he remembered adding salt and pepper was important. They looked ready after a few minutes under his Heating Charm, and he dished them up onto two separate plates, and filled two glasses with orange juice from the cold box. 

The clattering of crockery finally woke Harry up, and he came stumbling into the kitchen as he rubbed his face with the back of one of his hands. Draco hid his smirk behind his glass of orange, at the sight of Harry's already messy hair sticking up at the back in several directions, seemingly defying gravity. 

"Draco?" Harry was blinking at him blearily. "Why are you in my kitchen?"

"I accidentally fell asleep here last night," Draco said with a shrug, as if it were no big deal. "So I thought I'd make you breakfast to apologise."

"Wow," Harry deadpanned. "This is the second time you've apologised to me this week. Should I be feeling honoured?"

"Yes. But don't get used to it; I still have a reputation to maintain, you know."

Harry gave him a mock salute. "You don't have to apologise for falling asleep, by the way. You're always welcome to stay here if you need to. But thank you for making breakfast; usually it's me making it for someone else, not the other way round."

He took a seat at the table, and Draco set the plates down before he settled down opposite Harry. 

"Like I said, don't get used to me spoiling you like this," Draco said with a smirk. "Unless you can offer me something in return, of course."

"Of course." 

Harry took a forkful of eggs, and immediately clapped a hand in front of his mouth. Draco's smirk fell from his face, twisting into a scowl. 

"What?" he demanded. "Is something wrong?"

He realised then that Harry was laughing, and he thought perhaps his eggs were so amazing they'd taken Harry by surprise. 

Harry swallowed heavily. "God, Draco, these are terrible. How much pepper did you put in?"

Draco's scowl grew. "Just enough to cover the top layer."

Harry let out a loud burst of laughter. "Oh, Draco...I mean, this was really sweet of you, but seriously, just give them a try, will you?"

Not wanting to admit defeat of his cooking abilities, Draco took a forkful of eggs only to recoil at the strong, bitter taste that made his tongue want to twist away from the food on top of it. 

"Alright," Draco said as he spit his eggs into a napkin. "I think you have a point. This is my first time cooking, though, so you can't be too hard on me."

Harry's laughter faded, and he was suddenly looking at Draco with wide eyes, almost like he was seeing him for the first time. "Really? You've never cooked in your _life_ , but you tried to for me?"

"Aren't you lucky?" Draco said dryly. "I certainly think all my good behaviour shouldn't go unrewarded."

Harry tilted his head. "I mean, if you're only doing it for a reward I don't think it counts as _good_ behaviour, but I do consider myself quite a _giving_ person." 

He trailed his finger slowly across his lips, before drawing it into his mouth and sucking deliberately on the digit. Breakfast was forgotten now, and all Draco was hungry for was Harry. He was all but ready to leap across the table and pull Harry into a searing kiss, when Harry spoke again. 

"Although I'm afraid you're busy now. Your mother--though she claimed it was your doing--has arranged some meetings with several businesses about the ball in Diagon Alley today."

"How do you know I didn't do it?"

Harry raised a brow. "It's alright; your mother told me she didn't expect you to put a whole lot of effort in. Really, I'm just pleased to work with you instead of her--don't tell her this, but she scares me a little bit."

"Narcissa has that effect on many," Draco said. "I won't tell her, but I think she'd be delighted to hear that you think that of her. I guess I'll have to be making my leave, then. See you around, Harry."

 

 

***

By mid-afternoon, Draco was exhausted. Harry had given him the list of everyone he needed to visit, which ranged from caterers to decorators to musicians. He would give it to his mother, though, she had impeccable taste. Every single company Draco visited exuded style and professionalism, and he'd especially enjoyed visiting the dessert caterer who offered him sample after sample of cake. Of course, high quality meant higher prices, but Harry had insisted they had the funding to go for whoever Draco and Narcissa wanted. 

It felt nice, having Harry's trust in him. Draco had spent a long time going from club to club, taking whichever substance would alter his mind enough to make him feel _good_ , not caring that to keep up his lifestyle he'd had to sacrifice meaningful relationships. But then he'd run into Harry who seemed just as sad as Draco, but thew himself into helping others to drive away his demons, rather than simply escaping them. Where Draco floated away, Harry stuck his feet firmly in the floor to fight. 

And despite the sadness Harry carried with him, his home was full of love and warmth, unlike Draco's which had become a palace of ice, and at his own doing at that. Even at school, Draco had been jealous of Harry and the close friendship--brotherhood, in fact--that he'd shared with Granger and Weasley, while all Draco had for friends were a bunch of arseholes who only got on because they had no other choice. And once more, Draco was jealous of Harry and the world he'd created for himself; a world Draco could have for himself if only he stopped running away and actually faced his demons. 

"Draco!"

Draco turned at the sound of his name, and watched as his friends came into view--although he was beginning to wonder if his friends were actually demons in disguise. 

"Hey, mate," Theo said, stumbling into Draco as he tripped over a cobble in the floor. "Where've you been?"

"He's still feeling the effects of last night, I think," Blaise said with a grin. "But really, Draco, was it that hard to get out of a solicitor's meeting? How long did it even last?"

Draco shrugged elegantly. "He wanted to go for drinks afterwards." The lie rolled easily off his tongue. "He knew my father at school and wanted to regale me with stories of their youth. I've never been so bored, but I can't really offend the man trying to get my father free access back into the country, can I?"

"I suppose not," Pansy said, idly picking at her nail. The pink paint was chipped in places, and Draco noted the eyeshadow and mascara round her eyes were smudged as well. Had Pansy always looked like that much of a mess?

"Anyway, we're off to see Salem at Cobb and Webb's. Do you wanna come?" Theo asked eagerly. 

Cobb and Webb's was a standard Dark Arts shop down Knockturn Alley, but the manager, Salem, ran a side business in the basement selling illegal mind-altering potions. Draco and his friends tended to stick to drugs most of the time because it was impossible for Muggle law enforcement to catch them with magic on their side, but they didn't have that advantage when it came to the Aurors. 

Salem's potions were particularly amazing though...

"Sorry," he said, fighting the urge to grit his teeth. "Mother's sent me out with a tedious errand list, and I tend to prefer the Muggle stuff anyway."

Three sets of eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

"You're turning into a right bore, Draco," Pansy said. "Please don't tell me you're going straightedge on us."

"Of course not, I'm just busy," he lied. 

"Well," Blaise said with a cruel smile. "Have fun being a Mummy's Boy."

Draco watched their retreating backs, and looked down at the list in his hands. He only had two places left to visit, and they weren't that urgent anyway. A vision of Harry's disappointed face flashed at the front of his mind, and Draco shook his head to try and rid himself of his conscience which had evidently decided to take Harry's form. 

Ignoring the nausea bubbling in the pit of his stomach, he hurried to catch up with his friends, throwing his arms around Blaise and Pansy's shoulders as they stopped for him with identical grins on their faces. 

Draco grinned back. "I'm sure one little potion won't hurt."  
   
****

 

***

"Draco?" Harry's head appeared in the fireplace, blinking sleep out of his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Draco said excitedly. "I'm great; fantastic, even. And I wanted to see that gorgeous face of yours. You're gorgeous, has anyone ever told you that, Harry?"

The words tumbled out of Draco's mouth of their own violation. Salem's potions were still coursing through his veins, making Draco feel like he was on top of the world. 

"Er, thank you?" Harry's answer sounded more like a question. "You know it's two in the morning, right?"

"Yes, but like I said, I _had_ to see you. Seeing you makes me happy. So I had to see you. We should go out sometime, you and me. You're gorgeous, and _I'm_ gorgeous, so it only makes sense." 

"I mean, I can't argue with you there," Harry said. "If I try and go back to bed are you just going to Floo me again?"

Draco nodded. "Don't leave me. I'm better than any man you can dream up in bed."

"Right," Harry said with a sigh. "Budge out of the way, will you? I'm going to come over."

Draco excitedly moved out of the way, and moments later Harry was stumbling through the fireplace. 

"You're wearing grey," Draco said, noticing the over-sized grey jumper Harry was wearing as sleepwear. "It looks good. All that black washes you out. It makes you look like Snape, but if Snape was twenty years younger and much, much cuter. I think you're cute."

"Do I need to take you to the hospital?" Harry asked. "Are you drunk or has someone messed with your brain?"

"Nobody's messed with my brain. I'm one of the smartest wizards there is, I'll have you know." Draco puffed out his chest. "Don't you think that's impressive? I keep complimenting you, Harry, but you haven't complimented me back."

It seemed very important that Harry knew just how good Draco was. 

"Yes, you're uh, very smart and attractive," Harry said. "Oh, is that a potion vial? What was in it?"

Draco looked towards his vanity, where one of his potion vials lay--he'd lost count how many he'd taken after a while. 

"Just something fun." Draco shrugged. "It's called _Dementor's Foe_. Do you want some? We can go and get Salem if you want some." 

"I'm good, thank you. Ron told me about this potion." Harry walked over to the vanity to pick up the empty vial. "Supposed to cause high energy, raise your confidence levels to the point of arrogance, and make you feel like nothing in the world can go wrong for you. And not to mention the potential heart attacks and strokes it can cause."

"Don't go telling your weaselly Auror friend that Salem gave it to me," Draco said sternly. "We'll all fight him if he does; we can take it. And if I hex your friend you won't be very happy with me, and I don't want you to be unhappy. You look sad sometimes, I can tell. I'm great at reading people, even when they close off from people. I can make you happy, Harry."

He crept up behind Harry, wrapping his arms round Harrys waist and resting his head on his shoulder. Harry froze, but didn't make any attempt to pull away. 

"See how pretty we look in the mirror," Draco said, jerking his head towards their reflection where Draco's bright features contrasted starkly against Harry's dark ones. "You're pretty, Harry. I'd love to fuck you."

He ground his crotch against Harry's arse, which finally prompted Harry to try and squirm away from him. 

"Sorry," Draco said quickly. "The potion makes it difficult for me to get hard, but I'm sure if you play with it a bit it'll perk up."

"Draco," Harry said seriously, managing to spin himself round even if he couldn't escape Draco's tight grasp on him. "I'm not going to have sex with you while you're high. That breaches all kinds of consent issues, so if you really want me you're going to have to tell me while you're sober."

"But I _do_ want you," Draco said whiningly. His hands moved down to cup Harry's arse, but Harry used the loosened hold to escape from him altogether. 

"I'll be back in a few minutes, okay? Just wait for me here yeah?"

"Where are you going?" Draco worried his lip. Harry couldn't be leaving him, could he? He didn't want Harry to go anywhere. 

"Er, well if you want to sleep with me I need to get ready, don't I? Just wait for me; I won't be long."

Feeling much more satisfied, Draco stripped himself of almost all his clothes, save for his boxers, and sat on his bed with his back pressed against the headboard as he waited for Harry. His heart fast in his chest, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the potion or because of Harry. Probably Harry. Once Draco was hard, he'd be able to fuck Harry until he was screaming for more; in fact, he'd be so good at it that Harry would never want anyone else to fuck him, ever. 

Harry returned not much later, as promised, and he held another potion vial in his hand. 

"Here," Harry said, offering him the vial. "It's uh, a potion to help you get an erection. Can't do much if you're not hard, can we?"

"Smart," Draco said, rasing the vial in salute as Harry perched at the end of the bed. He downed the contents quickly and tossed the glass aside. "How long will it take to work?"

"Not long at all...your mother assured me it was very fast-acting, and safe to take alongside what you've already taken."

Draco blinked. His eyes suddenly felt heavy. "My mother? Why are you asking her to help us have sex?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry I lied to you." He placed a gentle hand on the bare skin of Draco's leg. "But I already told you I can't have sex with you while you're high. That was a sleeping potion, to help you sleep it off until the potion leaves your system."

"That's naughty," Draco said, barely able to raise his voice above a whisper. He didn't have enough energy to go beyond that. "I'm gonna have to give you a spanking for this, you bad boy."

"Please do. But just go to sleep now, Draco, you'll feel better for it. I promise."

Draco's eyes finally closed.  
   
****

 

***

Draco woke with a start, heart thrumming heavily in his chest. He couldn't remember much about what his dream had been about, only that he was running from something. 

He rubbed his face with his palms as he sat up in bed. The good thing about Salem's potions was that he added ingredients to stave off the effects of the comedown, something which couldn't be achieved with Muggle drugs. 

As he pulled his hands away from his face, his gaze instantly flickered to the chaise sofa placed against the wall opposite his bed. It was made up with blankets and pillows, and all at once flashes of the night before came back to him--stumbling home high off his mind and calling Harry on the Floo, Harry coming round and...Merlin, Draco admitting to Harry he had taken mind-altering potions. Harry must have fled in horror, but then, why would he stay the night just to escape unnoticed in the morning?

He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes in the hopes that when he opened them again it would be to a fresh new morning where none of the night before had happened. No such thing happened.

He decided to go and draw himself a bath--whether to clean or drown himself, he hadn't quite decided--when the door opened and Harry entered with a tray of food in his hands. 

"Oh, you're awake," Harry said. "Good; you're a grouch when you get woken up against your will."

"Harry, I--is that my shirt?" 

Draco could only stare wide-eyed at Harry's chest, and the black, sheer shirt which covered it. It was definitely one of Draco's. The sleeves were slightly too long for Harry's hands, and it hung slightly too loose on his body, but just the fact he was wearing _Draco's_ clothes set off some odd possessive hunger in him.

"Er, yeah. I hope you don't mind. It's just that I had to sleep in my jumper and I wanted something fresher on."

"No, I don't mind." Draco licked his lips. "It looks good on you. But about last night; Harry, I'm-"

"Not yet," Harry said, holding up a hand. "I made you some breakfast; you should eat."

"But I-"

"For someone who supposedly hates apologising, you're certainly ignoring my let you avoid one. We'll go for a walk and talk about things later, okay, but don't worry; we all have our demons, trust me on that."

Harry tugged at the edge of his sleeves, frowning, and the smile he gave Draco as he looked up was strained. "Just come and eat," he said. "I want you to know what scrambled eggs are like when they're actually edible."

Draco took a seat on the edge of his bed beside Harry and charmed the plate to hover steadily in the air so he could eat from it gracefully. 

Harry's eggs were fluffy, perfectly seasoned, and had a sprinkle of cheese which made for a pleasant surprise. They were amazing.

"They're alright," he said. 

Harry rolled his eyes, and stole a forkful of Draco's eggs. 

"We take it in turns to cook for the kids at the orphanage, so I can cook you anything you want, as long as it's something a child would eat. Other breakfasts I can make you include pancakes, waffles, and two eggs and bacon made into a smiley face."

"I want the eggs and bacon next time." 

Draco froze, not knowing if he was being far too presumptious that there would be a next time, given his behaviour the night before, but then Harry smiled. It was far more genuine that his last one, and it made Draco relax at once. 

"Sure thing, but only if you buy some fruit. I asked your mother where you kept it, and she said you didn't have any in the house at all! We always encourage the kids to have one piece of fruit with their breakfast so they can get started on their five-a-day."

"Harry," Draco said dryly. "I'm a junkie. Do you really think fruit is going to make that great an impact on my health?"

Harry pursed his lips in such an uncanny impression of McGonagall, that Draco wondered if she taught her Gryffindors how to perfect it. 

"It's a start, at any rate. I need to go and check in at the orphanage; we're over-staffed today so it won't matter if I don't stay long, and then I'm going to come back so we can talk properly. I'm not angry at you, though, I promise."

"Is there something wrong with you, Harry?" Draco asked, genuinely curious. "I've spent most of the time we've known each other being awful to you, and while my behaviour might have improved, you've seen how fucked up I am. Why are you even giving me a chance?"

Harry rubbed at his own arm as he smiled sadly. "You're not the only one who's fucked up, Draco. And if two fucked up people don't give each other a chance, then who will?"

 

 

***

By the time Harry returned, Draco had showered and dressed in several different outfits before settling on a pair of skin-tight jeans and a shimmery pink shirt which matched the shade of his hair perfectly. They were clubbing clothes, but Draco knew he looked good in them and hoped that looking sexy would distract Harry enough from any possible anger. Thankfully Harry hadn't seemed angry earlier, but his rage might have grown the longer he though about it. 

Harry had a streak of purple paint in his hair, and a tiny stripe of blue paint across the bridge of his nose. Draco thought it looked rather cute. 

"You look colourful," he said teasingly. 

Harry hurried over to the mirror at the vanity. "Damn. I thought I'd got it all out. Most of our kids love painting, but one prefers to throw it around the room in a form of more _abstract_ art."

Draco snorted. "Careful; that's the kind of thing my parents would say when I misbehaved as a child, and look how I turned out."

"Come on," Harry said, rolling his eyes affectionately. "Let's go for a walk in your garden."

Draco led Harry down the many corridors and staircases of the manor until they reached the large, glass doors at the back of the main lounge which led into the garden. The gardens had fallen into disarray while the Dark Lord had haunted the manor, but his mother had fixed them up to their previous glory. He hadn't quite realised just how much time Narcissa spent outside, and he didn't know if she was trying to avoid the ghosts that lingered in the manor's walls, or the ghosts that lingered in Draco's mind. He felt ill at the thought of his mother hiding in the flowers because she couldn't bear to be around the monster her son had become. 

"You alright?" Harry asked, nudging Draco's shoulder lightly with his own. 

"Not really, no," Draco admitted. "But I don't think I have been for a while now."  
   
Harry frowned, and his hand twitched against Draco's as though he yearned to link them but was holding himself back. "Let's go find a bench to sit on and we'll talk properly then, okay? I assume you have benches somewhere in your multi-acred garden."

"It's only eight acres, for the record."

Harry shook his head in amusement, and followed Draco through the garden. Draco knew his favourite spot, where he used to come and play with his toys when he was a child, and read as he got older. Bright, sweet smelling flowers in shades of pink, orange, and red lined the path. The sun shone brightly above them, making the marbled pathway glitter, and Draco wondered yet again how Harry could stand to wear such long-sleeved jumpers in the summer heat.

They finally reached the stone bench which sat shaded from the sun by the lush green chestnut tree which loomed over it. Water trickled gently through a small stream opposite the bench. A bush of vibrant yellow roses enveloped them in a semi-circle. 

"I used to come here a lot," Draco said sadly. "I haven't been here for a long time; not since the Dark Lord came back."

"It's beautiful here." Harry studied the yellow roses and plucked one gently away from the bush. "Luna told me that yellow roses mean happiness and optimism, but I don't know if I believe her. They've never made me any happier."

Draco took the rose from Harry's hands and carefully slid it into Harry's hair, charming it so it wouldn't fall out. "Maybe you just need to carry one everywhere with you."

Harry gave him a small smile. "Maybe."

They both sat, neither of them speaking. They were content to listen to the birds singing in the tree and the trickle of the stream. It was Draco who broke the silence first, afraid that if he got too used to this peace he'd never want to leave it. 

"Look, Harry; I'm into some fucked up shit. I was a shitty person during the wr, and I'm a shitty person now. And the drugs, well...it's like when I'm in a pit they let me float away from everything, you know? They make me feel _good_. It's better than feeling so, I don't know, angry all the time. And I know deep down they're ruining my life, and even my mother's life, but I'm too selfish to stop. I want to, I want to be better, but-"

His words were cut off as Harry's soft lips suddenly pressed against his sweet like sugar. He reached for Harry to pull him closer, but as Draco tried to deepen the kiss, Harry pulled away. 

"Sorry," Harry said, biting his lips, which were slick and deep red; Draco longed to be the one to bite them. "I just wanted to kiss you at least once, in case I scare you off with what I'm about to tell you."

"Harry, what could you possibly say that would make me run away, when you've done no such thing after finding out I'm a junkie?"

Harry didn't say anything, and simply sighed heavily as he closed his eyes. He rolled his sleeves up to the elbows and placed them palm up over Draco's knees. 

Draco frowned in confusion, not sure what Harry was doing, until he realised what he was looking at. Silver scars and cut marks, some old, some newer looking, covered the skin of Harry's arms; some, in fact, looked so red and raw they couldn't even be a day old. 

It made Draco nauseated to look at, to know that Harry's guilt was so bad it drove him to hurt himself. Harry had thrown himself into working with orphans of the war, protested about magical creature rights, and stood by Draco even after finding out that he was an addict--Harry was a _good_ person, and Draco couldn't fathom how someone so pure could hate themselves so much. His stomach twisted as he thought of his mother, who probably felt the same way about Draco. 

"Oh, Harry," Draco said finally. " _Why_?"

Harry opened his eyes, shining with unfalling tears. "So many people are dead because of me. And _I_ died, but I got to come back; it's not fair. But sometimes I'm worried that I'm not alive, that I'm dead and I'm in hell with how much pain I'm in, so cutting reminds me that I'm real, and that the pain is real, and the burn of the cut takes away the sadness in my mind, at least for a little bit. And I know I could heal the scars instead of hiding them, but you can't heal death so why should I get to heal? "

"We really are fucked up, the pair of us, aren't we?" said Draco. "I think between us we found two of the most unhealthy coping mechanisms we could. I'm not going to tell you not to cut again, because you can just tell me not to do drugs again and I know we'd both struggle with it. But how about we both at least try? And it doesn't matter if we fail, as long as we try."

"Okay," Harry said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He pulled his sleeves back down hastily. "We'll try."

Draco took a deep breath, looking at Harry's sad smile and wanting to take the pain away for him.    

He didn't know what it was about Harry, but something about him just made Draco want to jump his bones, and afterwards cuddle up under blankets with cups of hot tea. Thoughts of rough fucking weren't unusual for Draco, but romantic fantasies certainly were. Draco wasn't soft; he was sharp as a razor and cold as ice, and Harry wasn't supposed to be making him _feel_ , but there Harry was, with his green, soulful eyes, and his bitable collar bones, and his arms littered in cuts and scars that made Draco want to kill every damn person who'd made Harry think he deserved to hurt himself. 

He took Harry's hand in his, his fingers grazing under the fabric of Harry's sleeve to stroke his wrist. His other hand wound in Harry's hair. Harry leaned forwards, his lips meeting Draco's once more. Draco kissed Harry hard, afraid that if he let go Harry might float away and Draco didn't want that to happen. 

All he knew was that kissing Harry felt better than any drug.   
   
****

 

***

Draco sat on his windowsill, arms wrapped around himself as he looked down into the gardens. It seemed days ago that he and Harry had kissed in the shade of a chestnut tree, though it had only been a few hours. Despite the fear of Harry rejecting him, and the pain at knowing Harry hurt so bad inside he felt the need to hurt himself on the outside, Draco had been able to manage those emotions with Harry next to him. Now Harry was gone, and Draco was alone. 

His eyes flickered to his door. Part of him yearned to run out into the hallway and find the nearest fireplace so he could Floo his friends and see where they were going tonight. He wanted so badly to join them, to shut away the ache in his heart with something that would make the world seem brighter, at least for a little bit, but he couldn't give in to those thoughts. He needed to at least _try_ , like he and Harry had promised each other.   
   
The pain inside was too much, though, and he felt like the anxiety and sadness and hate inside him would overwhelm him completely if he didn't do something about it soon. His hands were trembling, and he placed one of them against the cool glass of the window, closing his eyes and resting his forehead just above his hand. 

As badly as he wanted to Floo Harry, he knew he couldn't expect Harry to come and save him every time. Harry already felt guilty that he couldn't save more people, and Draco would be selfish if he added to that. And Merlin knew that he never used to care about being selfish, and now here he was worrying about selfish towards Harry Potter of all people. 

He opened his eyes. The sun was setting in the sky, casting a dark glow over the gardens. Draco knew it wouldn't be long until darkness was upon them, and he couldn't bear the thought of being alone in the dark tonight. 

Draco left his room and made his way down the hallway. He hesitated as he passed the sitting room, thinking how easy it would be to slip inside to make plans with his friends and have a night of fun, and be back before Harry even knew what had happened. Draco had lied to his mother in the past, and he'd gotten away with it. Until he hadn't. 

He forced himself onwards, remembering all too vividly the way his mother had screamed and cried when she'd found out that Draco was playing around with mind-altering substances. She'd never cried since that day, treating Draco with only disdain carried with an air of bitter humour, but he realised now that was probably just her attempt of hiding her pain. It was a good job his father had left the country too; Draco wouldn't have been able to bear the disappointment in his eyes. 

Eventually he reached his mother's room. He rapped on the door loudly, and Narcissa answered it almost at once. Her hair was pinned up, and she was wearing her silk dressing gown, as though she'd been preparing to go to bed, but as soon as she saw Draco she was instantly wide awake. 

"Draco, darling, what's wrong?"

The words Draco yearned to say became stuck in his throat, and all he could do was let out a loud sob. He fell to his knees, burying his face in hands as the dam inside him burst, tears making his body shake with the intensity of it. 

Strong arms wrapped around him, the scent of Narcissa's jasmine perfume clogging his sense as he was pulled gently against her chest. Narcissa said nothing and simply allowed Draco to cry in her arms, rubbing soothing circles on his back like she used to do when he was a child.

"I just want to be better. Why can't I be better? I'm useless."

"Oh, darling," Narcissa said softly. "You're not useless. You've admitted there's something wrong, which is something you haven't been able to do until now; I'm so proud of you. Now you just have to find some fight in you. I know you have it in you, Draco."

"You said that to Father, but then he just ran away from his problems and left us to deal with it. How could he do that to us? What kind of man leaves his son without a father, right when he needs them most?"

A fresh flood of tears burst forth, and Narcissa stroked his hair as she made soothing shushing noises for him. He should have been embarrassed at his mother treating him like a child, but somehow he needed it. 

"Your father is a selfish man and a coward, but never doubt that he loves you," Narcissa said once Draco had calmed himself down enough. "And I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. If you can't find the fight in you to get better just yet, then let me do the fighting for you until you're able to. We'll get through this together, darling, I promise."  
   
****

 

***

By the time morning came, Draco felt groggy and worn out. He had fallen asleep in his mother's bed on top of the duvet, but she had draped a blanket over him to keep him warm throughout the night. Crying so much the night before had made him feel better emotionally, less heavy, at least, but his eyes now felt dry and he didn't feel like doing much at all. 

He remembered, with a start, that he was supposed to be going to the zoo with the children from the orphanage today. The old him wouldn't have thought twice about calling Harry on the Floo and making up an excuse to get out of it, but he knew he couldn't let Harry down again--or the children, he supposed. 

He forced himself to get out of bed and showered. Half-way through getting dressed, Draco realised that he'd be escorting children to a Muggle zoo, so he reluctantly swapped his skinny jeans and tight purple shirt for chinos and a form-fitting but not quite as tight black shirt. He'd done the kohl around his eyes and couldn't be arsed to take it off; Harry wore his ridiculous piercings around the children and that wasn't a problem--though no matter how strange Draco thought that lip ring was, it certainly felt good against his lips while they were kissing. 

Draco took the Floo to the orphanage with plenty of time to spare, stumbling out into a brightly painted cloakroom which was filled with excited children and several frazzled looking adults. Harry glanced up from helping a little boy tie his laces to shoot Draco a grin, before returning his attention back to the boy. 

Draco's appearance hadn't just caught Harry's attention, but the attention of several childrens' too. He smiled awkwardly at them; he'd never been good with children--they were too loud and sticky, in his opinion. 

A little girl in a pink, floral dress, with a pink ribbon in her hair, and wearing pink sandals on her feet spoke up first. 

"I love your hair! It's so pretty; are you a fairy?"

Harry snorted. "Yes, Lottie, Draco is definitely a fairy."

The girl--Lottie--beamed. 

"Where are your wings?" a boy demanded. 

"We're going to be around _Muggles_ , Mason," Lottie said a little too loudly for Draco's liking. "He has to hide them or else we'll get in trouble!"

Draco was surprised at just how many children nodded in agreement. They were naive and gullible, but he could reluctantly admit they were just a little bit cute at the same time. 

Once all the children were ready they were split into groups of six, with two volunteers to a team of children. Draco was thankful to hear he was paired with Harry. In their group they had Teddy--the boy whose laces Harry had been helping to tie before. Draco hadn't recognised him because his hair was a dusty brown instead of blue. He seemed to have attached to Harry's side. The rest of their group was made up of Lottie and Mason, another boy named Dewey, and two girls called Sage and Esme. Aside from three-year-old Teddy, the other children seemed to be around seven or eight. 

"We're going to take the Portkey in a minute when it's our turn, and then it's just a little walk to the zoo," Harry told the group. "I want you all to buddy up, okay, and one of you needs to buddy with Draco."

"I'll walk with Draco!" Lottie offered eagerly. She took his hand in hers, and it felt so small and dainty that Draco became all too aware of the frailty of children and how he--his junkie, depressed self--was now responsible for the safety of a group of innocent kids. 

"Do fairies take Portkeys?" Lottie asked curiously. "It's really easy, don't worry; I'll show you how."

"Why _don't_ you take Portkeys if they're quicker?" Dewey added. "Flying must take _ages_."

"Flying's fun, though!" Sage said, beaming proudly as she turned to Draco. "I'm going to be the best Quidditch player in the world when I'm a grown up!"

Oh?" Draco said. "You must be getting lessons from Harry then; he was a very good player himself."

"I wasn't that good; I just had lousy players as competition." Harry winked at Draco, who had to turn flicking Harry the middle finger into pretending he was just scratching the side of his face. "Right, are we all ready? Everyone put your hand on the lamp."

Harry scooped up Teddy into his arms and they took the Portkey together, landing in a patch of woodland, far enough from Muggle eyes but close enough to not get lost. 

"Everyone got their buddy with them?" Harry asked as he put Teddy down. "Good."

Lottie tugged on Draco's hand. "You did really well. Have you been to a zoo before? I haven't. I love flamingos though and Harry says we'll see some today! I bet you'll like flamingos too because they're as pink as your hair. That's my favourite colour."

Draco shot Harry an alarmed glance, begging for help concerning this excited child, but Harry, the bastard, simply grinned at him. 

"Er, I think the flamingos will be very interesting to see. I think the giraffes will be my favourite."

Teddy threw his arms in the air. "Giraffes are tall as...trees!"

"That's right, Teddy," Harry said proudly, ruffling Teddy's hair. "Good job!"

Teddy beamed, not even squirming as Harry slipped a small rucksack patterned like a tiger onto his back. Draco tilted his head in confusion as he noticed there was a long, black strap attached to it, ending in a hoop which Harry slipped around his wrist. 

"Teddy's a runner," Harry explained as he noticed where Draco was looking. "And it's even harder to find a missing child when they can change their appearance at will. But you like being a _Super Tiger_ , don't you, Teds?"

Teddy punched his arm through the air. "Super Tiger!"

Harry--or technically Teddy--led them through the trees and onto a main street, which was only a short walk away from the zoo. Draco and Lottie were at the back of the group, per Harry's order, so he could keep an eye on the children. Harry had also told Draco what Muggle zoos were like and how they ran, and that everything was going on Harry's personal budget so Draco could treat himself to snacks or drinks whenever he liked. 

Draco had to admit to himself, though he'd never say it aloud, that he actually rather enjoyed the trip to the zoo. The children were incredibly excited by every different enclosure, massive smiles on their faces throughout the day. Esme and Lottie hadn't wanted to go into the reptile house, so Draco quickly offered to stay outside with them--he wasn't so fond of snakes himself anymore, not since Nagini. Draco even got to see the giraffes which were incredibly beautiful in person. It was the children in the end who'd decided they'd been looking at them long enough. 

Eventually they stopped for a late lunch in a picnic area near a playground, with swings, slides, a sandpit, and different styles of climbing frames. The children had eaten quickly so they could go and play, and were taking it in turns to help Teddy in the toddler section. Harry barely seemed to notice what he was eating, keeping one eye permanently glued on the playground. 

"They've enjoyed themselves today," Draco said, pausing to take a bite of his ham sandwich. "It's nice to see them so happy."

"That's all I want from them. I had a miserable home life growing up, but I remember this one wonderful day at the zoo--at least it was wonderful until I accidentally set a snake on my cousin and we had to go home. God, my uncle was so pissed off."

Draco frowned. He had a rough idea that Harry's home life hadn't been good, based on the glimpses he'd got of Harry's miserable-looking aunt and uncle on the Muggle side of King's Cross, but Harry had never spoken about it and Draco didn't feel the need to push him. And though his parents had brought the Dark Lord into his life, and his father had left him to hide in cowardice, he had only known love and affection at their hands as a child. There was no way he could understand what Harry had gone through.

He reached across the table, taking Harry's hand in his. "I know you think you're deserving of all the pain you put yourself through, but seriously, Harry, you're making a massive difference in these children's lives. I just forgot about everyone else and lived selfishly, but you've done the opposite."

"I guess...I guess I know what it's like to grow up unloved, and I didn't want any of them to feel that way. Even now some of them have been adopted, we still invite them for trips out and parties, just to prove we'll always be family, you know?

"You have a big heart, Harry. All you need to do now is learn how to love yourself."   
   
****

 

***

Draco let out a groan of pleasure as Harry kissed him hard, hands clutching Draco's shoulders tightly as they stumbled backwards until Draco's legs hit the edge of his bed. He fell onto it and Harry came with him, wrapping his arms around Draco's neck as he straddled his lap. Draco' reached down to grope Harry's arse and squeeze the firm flesh, which made Harry whimper into the kiss. 

He could feel Harry's hard length pressed against him, and his own cock stirred in response. He bucked upwards to try and create some friction; Harry grinned against his mouth. 

"You were such a massive help today," Harry said. He rocked his hips back so that Draco's cock was pressed right against his arse. "I really appreciate it, and I want to _show_ you just how much."

Draco's breath hitched in his throat, and he drew Harry into another searing kiss. 

"What did you have in mind?" Draco asked breathlessly as they finally broke apart for air. Harry's cheeks were flushed, his lips swollen from kissing, and the green of his eyes almost hidden by his wide pupils. He looked utterly debauched, and they'd done nothing but kissing so far--Draco couldn't wait to see just how wanton Harry could get. 

Harry said nothing, and instead slid off Draco' lap and knelt on the floor. He gripped Draco's legs as he laid his head on Draco's thigh. Draco swallowed heavily at the sight of Harry's large, begging eyes looking up at him; he could have asked for anything in that moment and Draco would have said yes. He threaded his fingers through Harry's messy locks. 

"I want to suck you off," Harry said. He licked a small stripe down Draco's still-clothed thigh. "Would you like me to?"

Draco's hand had already flown to his zipper before Harry had even asked for his consent. He used the hand still tangled in Harry's hair to tilt his head so their gazes met directly. "Fuck, yes!"

Harry grinned, licking his lips as Draco undid his zipper and lowered his trousers and briefs enough to release his aching erection. Harry surged forwards to take Draco's length into his mouth, causing him to groan loudly as tight, wet heat engulfed him. 

He closed his eyes as his hands found their way back to Harry's hair, tugging tightly at soft strands as Harry's mouth worked over him, licking and sucking just the way Draco liked it. Harry's fingers wrapped around the base of Draco's cock, sometimes drifting down to play with his balls while he took Draco's length deeper into his mouth, and sometimes jerking his cock while he focused on the head. Draco felt a surge of jealousy course through him wondering where Harry had learned his skills, and so he tightened his hold in Harry's hair and bucked his hips up. 

Harry only seemed to suck harder with the rough treatment, something Draco was pleased to note. He opened his eyes, only to nearly come there and then at the sight of Harry's stunning eyes looking up at him through thick lashes, and his hollowed cheeks and his hand which was inside his own jeans, touching himself to Draco's pleasure. 

It was only a blowjob, yet it felt far more passionate and intense than any of the meaningless fucks he'd had in nightclub bathrooms and grimy back alleys. And he couldn't even feel dirty about his past, not when he had Harry with him now, sucking his cock like it was the most important thing in the world to him.

His orgasm hit him hard, and he found himself thrusting hips wildly with a cry on his lips as he came in Harry's mouth. Harry swallowed every last drop of come, licking Draco's sensitive cock until he was entirely spent. 

Draco wasted no time in sliding to the floor himself, kneeling in front of Harry and batting his hand out of the way so he could jerk Harry off instead. Harry fell forwards, arms wrapped around Draco and his face buried in Draco's shoulder as he bucked into Draco's fist until he was coming, stifling his moans in Draco's shirt. 

"Mmm," Harry murmured against the fabric. "I knew you'd taste good. Can I sleep here tonight?"

"You're cuddly post-sex, aren't you?" Draco said teasingly, wrapping his arms round Harry--after a hasty Cleaning Charm. "That's not a problem; I've always wanted my own personal teddy bear."  
   
****

 

***

The next fortnight passed fairly quickly. Draco had managed to blow off his friends several nights in a row, and eventually they'd stopped asking him to go out with him--though they hadn't stopped to enquire about his well-being either.

It had been difficult, getting used to not going out every night to get high. There had been nights where he'd snapped at Harry for taking his euphoria away, but Harry had been continuously patient with him and stuck by his side to help him through it. And Draco had found himself doing the same for Harry, healing his cuts when he relapsed, and holding him through the breakdowns. Though he hated to see Harry upset, it meant a lot to him that Harry trusted Draco enough to drop his fake act of being happy. 

He could have never imagined a world where Harry Potter was so important to him, someone he thought would have only ever be a fantasy, and now he had him, Draco was terrified of losing him. 

Thankfully the charity ball planning had been keeping them busy. Draco had been doing a lot of his work at night when his cravings were worse as a way to distract himself. Finally the night arrived though, and the ball room looked fantastic, in Draco's opinion. 

He and his mother had chosen a silver and light blue colour scheme, something that was subtle while still extravagant. Several round tables were set out at the front of the room, near a large buffet table filled with the finest foods. A stage had been constructed on the other side of the room where the band played joyful music, and in-between was a large dance floor. It was far more classy than the dance floors Draco was used to. 

Towards the main doors stood two tall, narrow glass cylinders which reached from floor to ceiling, slowly being filled with more and more diamonds. The diamonds represented how much money that people were donating, and Draco was pleased to see the diamonds building at a steady pace.

Harry dropped down on the seat next to Draco, flushed with the exertion of flittering around from person to person, vying for donations and trying to make connections who could help with the orphanage. 

"Shall I fetch you a drink?" Draco asked. "Mother ordered some of the finest elf-made wine, but there's also Firewhiskey if you prefer."

Harry shook his head. "I don't drink alcohol. It makes my depression even worse, and makes me likely to do something _stupid_."

"I understand. That's why I never touched heroin or meth. Would you like to dance with a handsome gentleman, perhaps?"

Harry looked purposely round Draco. "Why? Have you found me one?" He grinned, leaning forward to kiss Draco softly. "Don't worry, you'll do."

"You're lucky you're good at giving blowjobs, otherwise I wouldn't keep you around."

An old woman nearby spluttered in shock; Draco hadn't realised he'd been talking quite so loud. His gaze met Harry's, and they both broke into identical grins. 

"Well..." Harry said, leaning in close to Draco's ear as he linked their hands. "Lucky for you I love sucking that gorgeous cock of yours. Now, didn't you promise me a dance? You can lead because I'm _horrid_ at dancing."

Draco wouldn't have said Harry was _horrid_ at dancing; he was simply just _bad_ at it. He didn't stand on Draco's toes or elbow him at all, but he did keep stumbling over his own feet. At one point he 'fell' forwards so Draco had to catch him, but Harry's sly smile made Draco think he had done it on purpose. 

By the end of the night the glass cylinders were both filled to the brim with diamonds, and Draco kissed Harry hard to celebrate.    
   
****

 

***

Draco breathed in deeply, inhaling the sweet, apple scent of Harry's hair. He kept his eyes closed, allowing himself a moment to enjoy the feeling of Harry in his arms, their bodies pressed tightly against each other. He would have been far happier staying in bed with Harry than getting up and facing the day, but Draco didn't think he had a choice.

Harry stirred in his arms as he began to wake from sleep. Draco brushed Harry's hair aside to place a kiss on his bared neck--already covered in love bites from the night before. Draco pushed his crotch firmly against Harry's arse, his cock already stirring from Harry's mere presence. 

He found he slept far better when Harry was in his bed, but he also found it made him as horny as a teenager. His mother, after she'd caught him fucking Harry senseless against a wall in the library, had said they were in the 'honeymoon' phase that all new relationships went through. She'd also asked them to _please_ keep their personal lives to their private rooms, and even if Draco wasn't going to listen to her request, Harry was too horrified at being caught in the act to do anything other than obey. Still, there was plenty of fun to still be had in bedrooms. 

"Mm, not this morning," Harry said, voice half-muffled by his pillow. "I'm still sore from last night."

Draco grinned against Harry's neck, and bit down on the sensitive skin which got a moan from Harry. 

"And who's fault was that?" Draco teased. "You were the one begging me to go harder, _rougher_.

Harry turned onto his back and flashed Draco an innocent smile. "And you did as I asked so wonderfully. I'm too sleepy to do much; you can fuck my mouth or ride me, if you'd like."

"Such a sweetly put offer. Don't I get any of your pretty begging this morning?"

"I could, but you're going to say yes no matter how I ask, aren't you?"

"You know me a little too well," Draco grinned. He began to pull the hem of pyjama bottoms down when a loud, urgent knock sounded at the door.  

"Draco! We know you're in there!" came Pansy's voice. 

"Stop being a slut and get out here," Blaise added. 

Draco scowled, jumping out of bed and banging back on the door. 

"Fuck off!" he snarled. "I'm busy."

"Oh, so you do have Potter in there?" Theo asked, contempt like ice in his voice. Draco's anger turned to confusion all at once--how did they know who was in his room? He glanced over at Harry, who seemed as equally perplexed. "Tell me, Draco, how was his arse?"

Draco threw the door open and stepped through, slamming it shut before his friends could look inside his room. He didn't want to face them right now, but he particularly didn't want Harry hearing them yell slurs about him.

"He's a scratcher, I see," Pansy said, stroking a hand down the length of Draco's back. "Always knew he'd be kinky."

"I knew he'd be a power bottom; I called it back when we were at school," Blaise added. 

"What are you on about?" Draco snapped, folding his arms over his chest. 

"This, of course," Theo said. He held up a copy of the morning's _Daily Prophet_ , on the front of which was a large photo from the charity ball the night before. The Draco and Harry in the photo seemed quite content to make out despite the audience. 

"So Potter's the one who's made you a boring cunt," Pansy said. "Is the sex really good enough to make you blow off your friends for a whole fortnight? I know you've always wanted to fuck Potter, but surely his arse isn't more important than _us_."

"Actually, it was _my_  choice, and my choice alone to stop coming out with you. I want to get clean and become a better person. Merlin, haven't you looked at your reflections recently? You're starting to look like those back alley junkies we always used to make fun of."

"Oh, I see." Theo slammed the newspaper against Draco's chest. "You're trying to pretend you're better than us now? Face it, Draco; you're just a slimy little Death Eater who Potter's going to throw away as soon as he's done with you. Why don't you come back to the people who are just as hated as you are?"

Draco gritted his teeth. "I told you; I'm trying to become a better person, and I can't do that with your pathetic arses hanging around."

He so badly wanted to give in, to accept going out with his friends and get high again, and it was so hard to stay strong. He didn't know if his anger was aimed at his friends or himself, or perhaps even both. 

Blaise opened his mouth to respond when Draco's bedroom door creeped open. Blaise's expression instantly switched to a sinister smile. 

"Ah, hello, Harry; we were just talking about you."

"Actually, they were just leaving," Draco said. 

Harry glanced between the group, looking uncertain but still undeterred. He had dressed--in one of Draco's jumpers once again--and the love bites were still blatantly on show. 

"We haven't seen Draco in so long, and we just want him to come on a night out with us but he keeps saying no," Pansy said to Harry. "You seem to have him whipped; can't you make him say yes to his friends?" 

Draco looked at Harry, begging him with his eyes to say no. 

"Uh, sure," Harry said instead. He turned to Draco. "Maybe the both of us could go together?"

"Excellent!" Blaise beamed. "We'll see you both tonight at _Decadence_ then?"

"Harry, this is a bad idea," Draco said after his friends had stalked away. 

"I know it will be tempting, but maybe that's good," Harry said. "I can help you, and once you know you can resist temptation once it will be easier the second time."

"The drugs aren't my main worry. My friends...well, I don't even think they are my friends because I don't like them and I think that's a requirement for friendship. But they're bad people, Harry, trust me; I used to be one of them."

"We don't have to go if you don't want to, but it seems like they aren't going to leave you alone. Maybe if you can actually _show_ them you've changed they'll get bored of you and leave you alone? Or I can report them to Ron and get them arrested or something when I know they have Muggle drugs on them?"

"The second option seems preferable to me right now," Draco said, pulling Harry into his arms. "If we go, can you promise me you'll come with me _everywhere_  so I don't get tempted."

"I promise," Harry said, leaning in to kiss Draco gently.  
   
****

 

***

"We don't have to go in if you don't want to," Harry said, squeezing Draco's hand tightly as they stood outside _Decadence_.

"That's not the problem. The problem is that I _do_ want to go in. We used to have fun without drugs, you know, we just drank. But once we had our first taste of ecstasy nothing else could compare and we let it take over. I want to prove to myself I'm stronger now, but remember what you promised me?" 

"I'm not leaving your side, Draco," Harry said firmly. "Even when you go to the bathroom I'll go with you, and if some bloke in there tries to tempt you with cocaine, I'll let you shag me against one of the bathroom stall doors instead."

"Shagging you _does_ sound a lot more tempting." He pressed a chaste kiss to Harry's forehead. "Well, let's go in."

The club was exactly as Draco remembered it. The colour scheme and furnishings differed from club to club, of course, but they were all the same with twinkling lights dancing across the dark rooms like a rainbow. The heavy bass of the music seemed to vibrate through the floor and into him, while bodies writhed against one another in the middle of the dance floor. 

They collected their drinks first before they found Blaise, Pansy, and Theo in one of the private booths. 

"So I guess it's up to one of us to shag someone in the bathroom and steal their money?" Theo said."Draco used to love doing that; he was a right slut, you know, Potter." He grinned wickedly as Draco glared at him. "I'm joking, of course."

"It's no wonder you sent him to shag for money," Harry shot back smoothly. "He's easily the best looking one of you all. Kidding, of course."

Blaise smiled darkly. "Our little lion isn't afraid to use his claws. What made you decide you prefer snakes, Potter?"

"I've always had a soft spot for snakes," he replied, glancing at Draco and giving him a coy smile. "Some snakes, anyway. Some should be sent Neville's way so he can take his sword to them."

The interrogation went on for a little while longer, Draco's friends shooting insults at Harry disguised as innocent questions, and Harry responding in kind. While Draco was proud of Harry for holding his own against such a Slytherin tactic, the anger rising towards his friends only made him crave something to let him float away from the negative feelings. He took a large sip of his wine. 

"Draco, would you be a dear and fetch me a drink?" Pansy asked, fluttering her dark lashes at him. "Be a gentleman for an old friend? A Martini, please."

Draco rolled his eyes but stood up anyway, Harry obediently followed him. 

"We can leave any time you want," Draco said as soon as they were out of earshot. "They're all being arseholes."

"I knew they would be. Are you ready to go?"

"Kind of." Draco shrugged. "I'm really desperate for a taste of _anything_. What if we have one more drink and then make our excuses to leave? You must think I'm pathetic for not being able to hold out for long."

Harry pulled Draco firmly into his arms. "Of course you're not pathetic. It was hard enough for you to step through the doors but you did it. I'm proud of you, Draco."

They returned back to their booth, and Draco's eyes narrowed at once. His friends looked _too_  innocent; a look he recognised all too well after years knowing them and getting away with bad deeds. He noticed Harry shudder beside him as he placed his own glass back on the table...perhaps he was just reading into everything too much; no doubt getting overwhelmed by being back in a place he yearned to be, but disallowing himself the pleasures his body craved. 

Blaise, Pansy, and Theo had apparently finished their interrogation of Harry, and instead carried on talking to Draco like they had no bad feelings between them. Harry didn't take part in the conversation, staring at the table as he finished his soda. Draco rubbed Harry's thigh soothingly. 

They sat for half an hour listening to Pansy, Blaise and Theo go on and on about their various petty crimes and shenanigans while they were high. Draco barely listened, keeping his focus on Harry who seemed to be out of sorts, blinking rapidly as he clutched his chest.

"Harry?" he asked cautiously. 

Harry turned his attention to Draco. "I just feel a little strange. My heart feels really fast; I think I'm just a little anxious." 

"You don't need to feel anxious," Blaise said, having heard their conversation. "We're all friends here, aren't we?"

"Sure," Harry said, smiling at Blaise before he snuggled up against Draco's side. "You're so soft, Draco, I could cuddle you forever."

Draco absently stroked Harry's hair as Harry nuzzled his jaw and placed gentle kisses on his neck. Harry could be very affectionate when they were alone, but Harry was never like this in public. He narrowed his eyes at his friends across the table, who seemed to be determinedly ignoring Harry's actions.

"You're so tense Draco," Harry murmured into his neck. "Why don't you come dance with me?"

"So _I_  told Madam Malkin I _had_ paid, and-"

Draco drowned out the sound of Pansy's tale of the many Diagon Alley stores she had stolen from to watch Harry, who all at once had broken away from Draco and seemed wide awake and alert, looking out across the dance floor. 

"Are you alright, Harry?" he asked. Harry turned to him, smiling brightly. His pupils were so wide that the black almost took over the entirety of the green. 

"The lights are so pretty, Draco! I can almost taste them on my tongue." Harry stuck his tongue out, waving his arms out in front of him, giggling as he wriggled his fingers. 

Draco stared in horror, before rounding on his friends. His worry turned to anger at once, bubbling like fire under his skin. 

"What the fuck have you done?" he snarled, fingers scrambling at his wand in his pocket, itching to hex the smug looks of their faces.

"We've not done anything," Theo said. "Obviously Potter can't handle his alcohol."

"Harry doesn't drink alcohol, you idiots," Draco hissed. "Now tell me the truth or you'll come to regret lying to me again."

"Relax, Draco," Blaise said. "We just slipped a little ecstasy into his drink to help him relax. I wish we'd done it to you too if we'd known you were going to be such a bitch about it."

Draco surged over the table, jabbing his wand into Blaise's throat. "Give me one reason not to hex you right now, Zabini. My aunt taught me how to perfect the Cruciatus Curse, you know."

"You're outnumbered, Malfoy," Theo spat. "Are you really going to fight us over some little half-blood who's clearly only with you for your cock?"

"Please don't fight!" Harry cried, only just aware of what was happening. "You're all friends, you need to _love_  each other. You're all so pretty and wonderful; don't fight."

"Listen to your boyfriend, Draco. And why don't you go and dance while we sort this out, Potter?" Pansy shoved Harry towards the general direction of the dance floor and he went blindly. Draco made to follow him, but Theo caught his arm. 

"Are you really going to leave us for _him_? We're the one who've been there for you over the years!" 

"Let go of me before I slice your hand off, Nott," Draco snarled. "The three of you _disgust_ me, and if you even think of contacting me again I'm getting the Aurors on your arses for drugging Harry. Now let me get the fuck away from you."

Theo released Draco with a look of contempt. Draco didn't even look back as he hurried into the crowd, looking desperately for where Harry had gotten to. He pushed his way through the bustle of people, not caring who he hurt in the process. 

His eyes finally landed on Harry near the front entrance, being guided by the wrist by a middle-aged man. Draco ran faster than he knew he could, almost crashing into Harry and the stranger.

"Draco! This is Todd; he's my friend. He's going to show me his dog at his house. You know how much I love dogs!" 

Harry's eyes were flickering from side to side as though he didn't know what to focus on, his trembling fingers twitching. He looked a mess, and Draco felt ill at the thought that he would have looked like that in the past, and that his mother would have seen him in the same state. 

"Uh, I was just escorting your friend back to the taxi rank," Todd said sheepishly. "He's one of my neighbours so I reckoned we might as well split the cost."

"I know for a fact he isn't, pervert, so get your grubby hands off my boyfriend before I _force_  you to."

Todd released Harry at once, hurrying away from the pair of them and back into the throw of dancers. Draco shot a stealthy hex at him, causing Todd to yelp in shock and pain as his genitals began burning. There were no actual flames or damage, but the pain wouldn't be relieved until Todd had the counter-curse--which Draco had no intention of ever giving him. 

His satisfied smirk was wiped off his face as Harry grabbed him in a crushing hug. "Have I told you how amazing you are, Draco? What would I do without you? Can we dance? I want to dance."

"No, Harry," Draco said firmly. "We're going home."

 

 

***

Draco stared blankly at the bed, watching as Harry's sleeping form tossed and turned. Narcissa sat beside Draco on the transfigured sofa, rubbing his arm soothingly. 

"You did the right thing, bringing him home," Narcissa said. "He might be a bit out of it after he awakens, but he'll be fine."

After bringing Harry back to the manor the previous night, Draco hadn't known what to do. Harry was in a world of his own, tearfully expressing his sorrow that there were so many people trapped in mirrors--meaning the Malfoy family portraits that line the hallway walls--and skipping and twirling around in place of walking. Draco'd had to go to his mother for help, who helped coax Harry into bed and placed a Sleeping charm on him so he could sleep off the effects.  

"I know he'll be fine," Draco said, cringing at the crack in his voice. "But it shouldn't have happened; I should have kept a closer eye on him. I can't believe my friends would do something like this."

The words felt foreign on Draco's tongue. Spiking someone's drink was exactly the kind of things his friends would be willing to do if it took their fancy. 

"Darling," Narcissa said, her tone ice cold. "Those people are not friends of yours. They very nearly destroyed your life, and if I hear you've been out with them again I'll be sending you to your grandmother in France; she'll keep you in line."

"I'm never going out with them again. They can rot, for all I care." He cast his gaze back over Harry, frowning at the sight of him. 

"Harry will be fine," Narcissa repeated. "Try to not to fret, Draco; that's how you get wrinkles."

Narcissa left to fetch them some tea, and Draco took the opportunity to sit on the bed beside Harry. He took Harry's hand in his own, placing a kiss to the back of it. Harry's eyes fluttered at the touch, and he began to break out of his sleep. 

Draco watched in silence as Harry's eyes slowly opened, blinking up at Draco in confusion.

"Draco? Why does my mouth taste like ash?" He sat up, rubbing his palms over his face. "What happened?"

"My-Blaise, Pansy, and Theo put ecstasy in your drink. Needless to say I threatened them, told them never to talk to me again, and took you home--after saving you from going home with some creep."

"Oh. I don't remember much of last night at all, to be honest."

Draco bit his lip. "I'm sorry for not looking after you better. I was too focused on myself to think about anyone else, and that got you in trouble. I can't believe I used to be just like the three of them, so cruel and uncaring; it makes me feel ill just thinking about it...about what happened to _you_. I guess I just wouldn't think they'd do anything to hurt me, including hurting you to get to me."

Harry shook his head, then groaned at the sensation. "It's not your fault, Draco. I just...I feel like I was ran over by the Knight Bus or something. Could you maybe get into bed with me so I can try and go back to sleep?"

Draco nodded, sliding under the covers to spoon Harry gently. He held tight, too afraid of what might happen if he let go.

 

 

***

Draco watched Harry's expression carefully as he took a forkful of scrambled eggs. 

"I hope these are more palatable this time round," Draco said casually. "I tend to be a much better chef when I'm more awake."

"They're delicious. Much better than last time."

"It only took him several attempts to get them right," Narcissa spoke up from behind her copy of the _Prophet_. "I was the unfortunate tastetester." 

Hary sniggered.

"Mother!" Draco cried. "Will you _please_ leave Harry and I alone if you've finished your breakfast?"

"See how rude my own son is towards me, Harry? Please don't let Draco burn down my kitchen if he attempts any more cooking."

"A difficult task, but I'll try," Harry grinned.

Draco huffed. He didn't know quite when his mother and Harry had become such good friends, but he didn't appreciate the graceful way they would team up against him.

"I don't mind if it took you several failed attempts to make eggs," Harry said after Narcissa left. "At least it means you're not a quitter."

"My mother never called them _failed_  attempts." He dug a fork into Harry's plate of food. "I'll just have yours if you don't want them."

Harry yanked the plate closer to his body. "Get your own damn eggs. But also, there's something I've been wanting to ask you."  
   
"Can you apologise for insulting my cooking? Certainly, Sweetheart."

"I'm being serious, you patronising git." Harry grinned. "It's just something Hermione keeps bugging me about. There's this Muggle centre where they do counselling and therapy for people like us. I've never wanted to go because I don't really like talking about my feelings, but they offer group therapy too, and I thought it might be easier if we went together. You don't have to, of course, it's probably stupid but-"

"I think we should do it," Draco cut in, reaching for Harry's hand. "Not the one-on-one thing because I think I'd try and hex whichever Muggle dares to interfere in my life so much, but I suppose that's less likely in a group setting. Or it's easier for me to hide what Im doing in a group."

"No hexing Muggles, okay? But we'll get through this, Draco; we're going to get better."

 

 

Epilogue

Draco sat on the floor between Harry's legs, closed his eyes as Harry stroked his hair gently. All the pink colour was now out of it, and he was back to his usual platinum shade. It had been a shock seeing his reflection the first time, but he looked more like _Draco_  now, rather than the drug addicted shadow he'd once been. 

A soft breeze blew through the window, carrying just a hint of a chill which was beckoning now September had arrived. Music was playing on the Muggle record player which Harry had brought round, playing the music of a singer named David Bowie who Harry had admitted to being just a little bit in love with. Draco couldn't be jealous because he was a little bit in love with Bowie too, not that he'd admit that to Harry. 

He opened his eyes to see Harry smiling down at him affectionately, and he tilted his head back so Harry could lean down to kiss him. Another thing he wouldn't admit to Harry was that he greatly preferred kissing now the piercings were gone. The lack of them made Harry less edgy, and more like the cute, good person he was. 

Their therapist had advised their group that it helped to make a fresh start and to throw away anything that reminded them of their past selves in a negative way. As a result, Draco was trying to clean out his wardrobe to get rid of all the pink, purple, and glittery pieces of clothing--although Harry had asked very nicely if he would keep the skinny jeans, and Draco couldn't refused such a request; especially when it came with such a wonderful blowjob.

"You're going to have to sort your room out at some point," Harry said teasingly as their lips parted. "Unless you want to live alongside a pile of clothes."

Draco moved away from Harry to sit cross-legged by the largest clothing pile. Harry came and sat beside him, resting a hand on Draco's knee.

"This is why I wish I still had a house-elf. And don't you dare tell Granger I said that."

Harry grinned. "Don't worry; I try to avoid bringing up the topic of house-elves around Hermione at all costs. Hey, I like this jumper."

Harry pulled out a bright pink hooded top, which was still stained with glitter from a previous club night.

"Throw that one out."

"Can I have it then? It feels soft and-" he pressed his nose against the fabric- "it smells like you."

"Go ahead."

Draco's eyes stayed glued on Harry as he stripped off his own black jumper and slid on Draco's pink hooded one. The sleeves were just too long for Harry, and the hem reached just a touch too far down his thighs, but the combination of Harry being in a colour other than black, and wearing Draco's clothes, had his cock stirring at once. 

He surged forwards, pushing Harry down onto a clothing pile as he kissed him hard.

"I want to fuck you, with you wearing nothing _but_ that jumper," he growled against Harry's mouth. 

"Kind of vain, but I'll allow it," Harry said, pulling Draco down for another searing kiss. 

Draco didn't think Harry truly knew just how much he had saved Draco. Being with Harry was better than any high, and he wouldn't trade him for the world. Finally, Draco believed that thing really were going to get better.


End file.
